


Coming Home

by earthspirits



Series: Soul Mates ~ Tales of Killian Jones and Emma Swan [2]
Category: Once Upon A Time - Fandom, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Captain Hook - Freeform, Captain Swan - Freeform, Captain Swan AU - Freeform, Christmas, F/M, Horror, Love, OUAT - Freeform, OUAT Christmas, OUAT New Year's Eve, OUAT Winter Solstice, Once Upon A Time, Reincarnation, Romance, Sexual Content, Suspense, Time Travel, True Love, Winter, Winter Solstice, captain hook / killian jones, emma swan - Freeform, killian jones - Freeform, reincarnated lovers, soul mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-01-11 08:10:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 45,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthspirits/pseuds/earthspirits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/>Captain Swan AU that to some extent still follows the basic premise of the series, but with a twist: Killian Jones and Emma Swan first met and fell in love when she was eighteen - and Henry is their biological child. Cruelly separated for eleven long years, the lovers have now been reunited with each other and Henry (see the first story in my series, "Winter's Night").  "Coming Home" is set immediately after "Winter's Night", and contains Season 3 and Season 4 spoilers.  </p><p>Having survived an attack by a deadly enemy, Killian Jones, Emma Swan, and their son Henry have returned safely to Storybrooke. Arriving shortly before Christmas, the little family finds the community under siege. The pirate and his Swan must do all in their power to prevent the destruction of the town, but on their first day home, Emma makes a startling announcement to her family and friends: She loves Killian Jones - and everything changes. As long held secrets are revealed, and danger stalks Storybrooke at every turn, Killian must battle to save Emma and Henry from a depraved evil that seeks to utterly destroy them all.</p><p>COVER ART by earthspirits</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking ~ Also contains some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 and Season 4 spoilers.  
> Please note: All original historical characters belong to me (and history). Thank you.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and the OUAT characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

  
  


The temperature had plummeted, and Emma Swan shivered a bit, despite being clad in her warmest lined coat. She wrapped both arms around her waist in an attempt to conserve body heat, and anxiously surveyed the long folding table that she and Killian Jones had set up on the foredeck of the Jolly Roger. The table was covered by a crisp white cloth, and loaded with a tempting array of goodies: Organic crackers and canapés, gourmet cheeses, fresh strawberries, and two big chrome ice buckets filled with bottles of wine, ice tea, and flavored spring water. Clustered at the table’s center were votive candles in clear glass holders, their golden flames flickering like stars against the dusk sky. Tall crystal wine flutes sparkled in the candlelight, and nearby were stacked colorful pottery plates and linen napkins.

This get together was her idea; she just prayed that everything would go off without a hitch. She stared for a moment longer at the table, a frown creasing her forehead, before finally asking, “Do you think it’s too much, Hook?” 

“Well, there’s no rum…” Killian began, with a smirk.

Emma glared.

The pirate leaned over, and kissed his exasperated beloved. “All joking aside, Swan, it’s fine.”

“Do you think they’ll even stay once we make our announcement?”

“Well…it's free food and booze, so it will be their loss if they don’t. Besides, it's been a tough year for everyone - I think they can all do with a little merriment.”

“True,” she replied, and smiled at him. “I just want everything to go well, Killian. I want all of us to finally be happy.”

“Please don’t worry, my love.” 

Privately, Killian cared naught what any of them thought; his skin was thick enough to take whatever they might wish to dish out. But for Emma’s sake, he hoped that people would at least hear and acknowledge their announcement with some modicum of grace. He smiled grimly. What he would not tolerate was any rudeness or unkindness directed toward Emma. Anyone who berated her would have him to deal with, and it wouldn’t be pretty.

Storybrooke - One Day Earlier

The Jolly Roger sailed majestically into Storybrooke's little bay, a graceful shape silhouetted by the late afternoon sun. Dark clouds scudded across the sky, heralding a storm, and the wind was rising. As Killian docked the ship, he thought those shadows also seemed to be lingering over some of the well-wishers awaiting them on shore.

The three of them disembarked. Emma stood on the pier, one arm around their son, staring nervously at the small crowd that had gathered to meet them: Her parents, Regina, and a tall, brown haired man with a small boy in tow.

"Not much of a turn-out," Emma said to Killian in a low voice. "I don't see Neal or Gold, or for that matter, anyone else from the town. Wonder where they all are?"

"I don't know, beloved," Killian replied. "But I've heard that strange things have been happening in Storybrooke. Perhaps it would be prudent to keep a low profile until we learn more." He took her hand in his, and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Good idea," Emma agreed softly, as her parents rushed forward, and joyously embraced first her, then Henry. David shook hands with Killian, but Mary Margaret made a point of ignoring the pirate, one hand resting protectively over her belly. Emma sighed. While she loved her mother, such behavior irked her. Glancing down, she noticed Mary Margaret's very obvious, and very round, protruding stomach. She was definitely expecting, and by the looks of things, it wouldn’t be too long now.

Regina waved at the arrivals. With a grin, Henry raced toward her. "Mom!" he cried excitedly, then stared curiously at her companions.

Emma walked over to the little group. She greeted Regina with a hug, at the same time whispering something in the other woman's ear. 

Regina’s head came up, her expression wondering, but she quickly smiled, then introduced Robin Hood and his young son. Turning to Henry, she said, "How about spending the night with me? Emma and your fath...uh...Hook are fine with that."

Henry beamed, and embracing Regina, asked hopefully, "Lasanga?" 

"Of course," Regina said. "I know it's your favorite." Glancing at Robin Hood, she added softly, “Robin - Would you and Roland care to join us for supper tonight? About eight o’clock? It will be a nice opportunity for Henry to get to know you both.” 

“We'll be there, Regina," the outlaw replied. "I’m always in the mood for your…um...cooking.” And the gaze he directed toward her promised a world of delights that were anything but culinary. Regina, blushing a little, reached out, and took Robin’s hand.

Mary Margaret put her arm around her daughter, and smiled. "Emma - why don't you and Henry come to our place for a little celebration? Nothing special, just drinks and some snacks - we can relax and play catch-up. After all, It's been a whole year since we last saw you." Her invitation, rather pointedly, did not include the pirate captain, or anyone else.

Sighing, Killian attempted to keep his expression neutral, while Regina rolled her eyes, and Henry and Robin pretended a sudden interest in the whitecaps foaming against the supports of the pier. Emma’s reaction was more visceral. She shook off her mother’s arm, her expression frosty. “Mary Margaret, David - I love you guys, but if Hook isn't welcome at your home, count me out. We're a couple - Deal with it!"

Her parents stared at her for a long moment. She could also feel the rest of the group, all suddenly grown very quiet, their attention focused totally on her.

Finally, David, always the gracious prince, murmured, "Understood." His glance shifted toward Killian, and he smiled. "As far as I'm concerned, the captain is always welcome at our home. Snow is just being a little over protective." He chuckled ruefully. "She is your mother, after all."

Killian thought that “over protective” was an understatement, but gave a little nod to the prince. "Thank you."

"But Emma," Mary Margaret sputtered. "This man is not worthy of you - He's committed all sorts of crimes! How can you even trust him, much less love him? He's a pirate!"

"Captain," Killian said wearily. 

"What?" Mary Margaret snapped.

Emma took a deep breath, her lips set in a determined line. "Look, I'm only going to say this once - My heart and my home are with Killian." She slid a possessive arm around Killian’s waist, and tilted her chin to a belligerent angle. "He and I are the only ones who decide our lives. I love Killian. I always have, and I always will. That’s never going to change." With a challenging expression directed at her mother, she added, "I don't give a damn if he's a pirate - What of it? That's such a bigoted remark, Mary Margaret. We’ve all done things in the past that are better left unsaid, so I don't think anyone here should be throwing stones. I'll remind you that in Neverland, _this_ particular pirate saved my father's life, and risked his own to bring Henry and me safely home, and to help save this damned town."

Killian smiled tenderly at his beloved. Raising his voice, so that everyone on the pier could hear him, he declared, "I love Swan - She is my life, my very soul. I'm not proud of some of the things I’ve done in my life. Though pirate I may be, I'm one who has been healed by Swan’s love, and who would willingly sacrifice everything for her, and for Henry. I made a vow to Swan to do all in my power to protect Storybrooke, and everyone in it. And I always keep my promises." His glance traveled from face to face. "When I say everyone, I mean, _everyone_ \- Friend and former foe, alike. This last year has been hard on all of us, and just like in Neverland, we have had to put aside our differences, and work together for the greater good. It hasn't been easy. Now that we are re-united, I implore you all to finally let go of any old lingering hatred and bitterness, as I have done."

"Please," Emma pleaded. "For everyone's sake, listen to Killian. He's right, it's time we all moved on." She smiled hopefully. “Anyway, while we appreciate that you guys all came down here today, Killian and I have been through a lot - We need a little privacy. We'll spend the night on the Jolly Roger. And Henry will be staying with Regina - They have a lot of catching up to do."

"Beloved, it will be okay," Killian commented sotto voce to Emma, and to the group, said, "Everyone - Tomorrow morning - Please meet us at the town hall at ten o'clock, and we'll discuss the situation regarding the Witch, and also strategy for the defense of our community. Suggestions and input are welcome."

"Please, Emma, come home with us tonight," Mary Margaret cut in.

"Snow..." David shot a warning glance to his spouse, and shook his head. Turning to his daughter, he said gently, "Tomorrow is fine. Get some rest, sweetheart. We'll see you then."

"We'll be over in the morning to pick up Swan's things," the pirate ventured in a conciliatory tone.

There was a distinctly rebellious gleam in Emma's eyes, as she suddenly blurted, "Killian and I are engaged!" 

Her handsome fiancé, while admittedly startled, flashed a pleased grin. "Aye, that we are. Swan has made me the happiest of men, and agreed to be my wife." Indeed, she had accepted his marriage proposal eleven long years ago. He was thankful that her feelings toward him had not changed. Ah, my darling, you were never shy when it came to our love!

This little bombshell was greeted with dead silence.

Regina was first to break the ice. With a wide and very genuine smile, she stepped forward and hugged them both. “Congratulations, you two! I suspected as much – and - I’m very happy for you!”

“Thank you, Regina,” Emma said gratefully.

Killian inclined his head. "My thanks also."

"True love is always to be treasured," Regina murmured. Eyes sparkling, she glanced at her outlaw companion, who winked back at her. 

“Tomorrow evening," Emma said, "We would appreciate it if all of you would please drop by for drinks and hors d'oeuvres, here at the Jolly Roger. Hook and I have something to tell you.”

"There's more?" Mary Margaret muttered under her breath, while Regina and Robin Hood, still holding hands, promised to attend.

The only one who was unsurprised was Henry, as he already knew what his parents were planning to discuss. He tilted his head, and eying the others, wondered what their reactions tomorrow night would be.

"That works for us," David said. "Well, I guess congratulations are in order." He clapped Killian on the back, and embraced his daughter, while Mary Margaret, arms folded tightly over her chest, stared with decided hostility at the pirate captain. Her jaw was still sitting somewhere on the dock. 

And just wait until they hear the rest of our news, Killian thought. He smiled sardonically.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Swan AU that to some extent still follows the basic premise of S2 and S3 of the series - Set immediately after my earlier tale, "Winter's Night", and after series episodes, "Going Home" and "New York Serenade".
> 
> Killian and Emma, wanting privacy after a rather stressful home coming, share desire and soul searching aboard the Jolly Roger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature - Contains romance and angst + tasteful descriptions of lovemaking ~ Also some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

The Jolly Roger – The Night Before

Emma breathed a sigh of relief, and shrugging out of her coat, sank gratefully onto the wide comfortable berth of their cabin. Being the captain’s quarters, it was the largest of the Jolly Roger’s accommodations, with built-in shelves crowded with leather-bound books and papers, an ornate desk with two chairs, and a beautiful hand loomed rug on the floor. Through the great window at the far end, she could see the outline of the sea, jet beneath the sullen storm clouds that had gathered.

“That went well,” she muttered sarcastically, and then, feeling Killian’s sympathetic eyes upon her, glanced up.

“Your mother is a tough woman,” the pirate observed. He was lounging in the open doorway, enjoying the sight of his lovely betrothed. She had divested herself of her thick sweater and boots, and was wearing just her usual gray top and jeans. At her throat sparkled the eternity necklace.

“That’s one way of putting it,” she said dryly, and made a face. “God knows how she’ll react tomorrow night.”

“Let’s worry about that when the time comes.”

Overhead, the oil lanterns wavered, pools of smoky bronze illuminating the shadowy recesses of the cabin. Closing and locking the heavy oaken door, Killian removed his own coat, and threw it on the bed, atop hers. With a smile, he sat beside Emma and drew her into his arms. 

She burrowed into his black clad chest. “Our engagement is secret no more,” she said, her voice slightly muffled.

“I was surprised that you broke the news so abruptly, Swan,” he replied, laughing. “But pleasantly so.” He bent his dark head, pressing hot kisses against the soft rose of her mouth, and trailing more kisses down her throat. “Although I suspect that some people were not as delighted as I upon your announcement of our betrothal.”

“Mary Margaret you mean?”

“Amongst others,” he said, thinking of Neal and his father. Eventually they would turn up, and when they heard the news, they would not be pleased. And while Killian was not afraid of their reaction for himself, he would not allow them to hurt Emma. But he would deal with that when the time came.

“I’m sorry they felt hurt…but…I’m tired of hiding our love, just to spare their feelings.” Her expression was strained. “Hook, when you proposed to me eleven years ago, and I accepted, it was an incredibly joyous moment. But thanks to Cora and her damned curse, we were ripped away from each other almost immediately afterwards.” She shook her head. “No more secrets.”

He took her hand in his, gently caressing her long, slender fingers. “No more secrets, my darling. It is indeed time to cast the light of truth upon our love and our shared history. This has always been my desire.” Turning her hand over, he pressed a fervent kiss to her palm.

Emma nodded, and was suddenly quiet, remembering another such winter’s day in Storybrooke. 

Had it been only a year ago that the two of them had stood on that chilly country road, staring deeply into each other's eyes, their hearts breaking, before yet another curse separated them? 

It had taken every bit of strength she possessed to not break down weeping in his arms as Killian had smiled sadly, and promised, “Not a day will go by, that I won’t think of you.” Thus he conveyed his love, and the unspoken message that no matter what, he would find a way to come back for her and their son.

It had been decided that Emma would be the one who would stay behind to protect Henry. He had been born in the Land without Magic, and thus could not return with them to the Enchanted Forest when the curse swept them all away. Only she, with her unique split world affinity, had the ability to withstand the force of the curse, and stay. And while Killian would remember Emma and Henry, the curse would rob them of all memory of him, and indeed, of all of the other residents of Storybrooke.

A sorrowful Regina had offered what kindness she could – implanted memories that would at least give Emma and Henry a “happy ending” of sorts.

But Emma knew that this was no happy ending. Not when, once again, she was being torn from the man she adored. But she said nothing of this to Killian, who was as devastated as she. Silently she had gazed into his beloved face, trying to burn his piercing blue eyes and chiseled features into her memory. Instead of farewell, her response to his vow was but a single word. “Good.” Such a small and seemingly insignificant word – and yet it contained a world of love and encouragement, as well as a plea for her pirate to return to her.

Grief stricken, Killian had watched his loved ones climb into the little yellow Volkswagen and drive away, the ominous clouds of the curse fast on their heels.

Emma, struggling to keep herself from leaping out of the car and running back to Killian, had gunned the engine and sped down the road. And as the curse hit, the false memories flooded into her mind, erasing her beloved as if he had never existed.

But that was then, Emma thought, emerging from remembrance of that day, as if from a cold deep well. Never again! With a desperate cry, she pressed her lips to Killian’s, digging her fingers fiercely into his shoulders.

The pirate, sensing her turmoil, returned the kiss in full measure, and smoothing back her hair, murmured, “I’m here with you, Swan, right here. I’m not going anywhere. It’s all right. _We’re_ all right.”

Emma took a long, shuddering breath, the sound of his voice calming her, as only he could. Wiping away her tears, she leaned against him, her arms loosely wrapped around his waist.

“Killian…I love you,” she finally said.

He smiled, and with reverent fingers, caressed the prominent curves of her high cheekbones. “I am grateful every day for that, my dearest.” Staring intently into the jade translucence of her eyes, he whispered, “I love you.”

Unbuttoning Killian’s shirt, she laid her hand against his heart. She could feel its sturdy beating, the vibrations reassuring, as was the warmth of his skin against hers. Without taking her eyes from his, she slowly moved her hand down his chest, to his flat stomach, and dipped it within the waistband of his leather trousers.

The pirate moaned as he felt her hand close over him.

Emma stayed that way for a long moment, and then moved away, smiling. Leaning back on the bed, she pulled her tank top over her head, and tossed it to the floor. Underneath she was wearing a black lace bra. She un-hooked it and let the scrap of material fall, exposing her round, pale breasts.

“ _Beloved_ …” Killian said huskily, quickly removing his clothing and boots, all the while keeping his gaze trained on Emma, who was tearing off the rest of her own attire with equal haste.

Silently, the pair embraced and lowered themselves to the berth. Frantic with need, Emma painted fevered kisses onto the bare canvas of her lover’s beautiful form, her tongue probing and darting like a humming bird, drunk on the heady nectar of his taste and scent. He responded with passion, his lips and hand touching her in all of her most secret, intimate places until she was moaning, almost beside herself with desire.

Scrambling upright, Emma flung her tangled hair out of her face, and rose over his lean body. For an instant, she hovered above him, fierce with love and yearning. Her eyes locked with his, and with a swift, powerful movement, she impaled herself on his manhood. 

The pirate moaned her name, and grasping her hips, thrust upward. As their bodies moved together, their magic rose in wave after wave of brilliant color, outlining them in a glowing nimbus of light. Emma arched her back and screamed as she climaxed, while Killian, his own body shuddering with pleasure, cried out, his voice merging in ecstatic crescendo with hers.

*********

They had fallen asleep in each other’s arms. Blankets and coats had been kicked off the bed during their lovemaking, and the cabin was freezing. Emma awakened, cold and hungry. She reached out and brushed Killian’s dark hair from his forehead. He looked so young and vulnerable in slumber, his breathing even and very peaceful. Softly, she kissed him on the mouth, and his eyes fluttered open.

He smiled. “Swan - You’re awake.”

“So are you.” 

“Indeed I am.” He stroked her bare arms, which were covered with goose bumps. “You’re chilled all the way through.” He reached down and snagged a blanket from the floor. “Here, beloved,” and wrapped it around her. “Better?”

She nodded. “But I’m starving.”

“Me too – after all, we didn’t have supper.”

Emma grinned. “We had something even better.”

“Aye, that we did – And quite delightful it was too,” he agreed. “But if you’re feeling peckish, Swan, shall we adjourn to the galley for a late night snack?”

“Sounds perfect.”

*********

Clad once again in their warm clothing and boots, Killian and Emma laughed and joked with each other as they prepared sandwiches and coffee in the Jolly Roger’s cramped galley.

Emma smiled blissfully. She loved doing casual little domestic things with her pirate. It felt good to be together like this, content with each other’s company, just like any other couple. It reminded her of the early days of their courtship, back in Portland.

Killian handed her a huge sandwich, cheddar on thick slices of buttered whole wheat bread. She bit into it and sighed happily. “Mmmm - This is soooo good.” 

The pirate grinned, and picking up the heavy enameled coffee pot, poured steaming dark liquid into two pottery mugs. 

“Can I have sugar with mine?” Emma said through a full mouth.

“As you wish,” he replied, and deftly added sugar to her drink. He handed her one of the mugs, and carefully took a sip from his.

“This is heaven, Killian,” she said, blowing on her coffee to cool it.

He tilted his head, his blue eyes gleaming. “Aye, that it is.” With a roguish grin, he kissed her, tasting cheddar faintly on her lips. “When I’m with you, Swan, ‘tis always heaven for me.”

Emma stared at him over the rim of her mug, and said softly, “I feel exactly the same about you.” She took another bite of her sandwich. “Hard to believe that it’s only a couple of days until Christmas. Do folks in your realm celebrate it?” 

“No, but we have Yule – the celebration of the winter solstice - which in my land is a spiritual, but festive event, with much feasting and merriment. While some aspects of it are similar to your Christmas, it’s really not the same thing.” He glanced curiously at her. “Any particular reason you ask?”

“I just wondered,” she murmured.

He raised one brow.

She laughed sheepishly. “Oh, this time of year, I just get a bit depressed. Christmas for me has always been sort of disappointing. All those Christmases when I was a child in foster care, and even as an adult - no presents, no tree, and much worse, no real family...” Her voice trailed off.

“You have family now, Swan,” he said, and setting his coffee on the counter, put his arm around her. “You have your parents and Henry…and… you have me.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

“Yes…yes…I do.” She smiled tremulously. “And being here, with you, is the best Christmas gift I could ever receive.”

Killian claimed her mouth in a long ardent kiss. “I love you, my darling lass. Never forget that.”

“And I love you. Even with the two curses we’ve suffered, Killian…in _here_ ," she tapped her heart with an index finger, "I never forgot you. What we discussed before about reincarnation – I too believe we’ve known each other through many lives. You’re my soul mate – Even curses can’t affect that.” 

Wiping at her eyes, she sniffed, and took a swallow of coffee. “Anyway, Christmas is not the problem. We have the safety of the town to worry about, and tomorrow night, our little get-together. Do you think it will go okay?”

He picked up his sandwich and considered for a moment. “It will be what it will be, Swan,” he said at last. “No point in speculation. While I hope that everyone’s reaction will be, at the very least, accepting of the truth we share, I’m trying to take a philosophical approach to it all.” He shrugged. “If some of them object…well, it’s not the first time you and I have bucked tradition, and it certainly won’t be the last.”

“No, I’m sure it won’t be,” Emma said. “And based on some of the reactions to our engagement, I think we can both guess who will be the most vocal in expressing disapproval.” Sighing, she added, “You must admit that it will be rather shocking, for all of them…even the ones who are on our side.”

“Point taken. But as long as Henry’s okay with it all, I must confess that I really don’t care what anyone else says or thinks. As always, my chief concern is you and our son.”

*********

The two of them had returned to their cabin and gone back to bed. Emma, half buried under the blankets, had quickly fallen asleep.

Beside her, Killian lay awake and brooding, his hand protectively resting on her back. He did not feel quite as cavalier about tomorrow’s gathering as he had led Swan to believe. He’d feigned indifference, so as to avoid upsetting her, but in truth, he was worried that there would be some strong negative reactions, and that those would wound her deeply. He was used to being on the receiving end of this sort of attitude, and felt rather stoic, at least in regards to himself. And while he sincerely meant what he’d said earlier about letting go of old anger, he would not allow his beloved to be hurt. If condemnation and harsh words were directed at Emma tomorrow, no matter from what source they came, he would not hold back in retaliating. 

He turned on his side, gazing at Emma. He could barely see her in the darkened cabin, just her long blonde hair, and the tip of her nose peeking out from under the mound of covers. My poor darling, he thought. You want so badly to be accepted by your family, and then there were those sad comments you made about Christmas, but in your typical way, quickly brushed aside. Killian was not much for holidays, and he really wasn’t very familiar with this particular one, but he determined that for Swan, he would surprise her with something truly special. He knew that Henry also celebrated the day, so a gift of some kind was in order for him too. But what should these gifts be?

His mind, perhaps a bit wired from caffeine, darted to another problem.

There was the matter of the town hall meeting tomorrow morning. It was important that the community be all on the same page concerning the Witch, whose eventual invasion of Storybrooke loomed over everything like a storm cloud. The logistics of their defense needed to be carefully planned - They could afford to leave nothing to chance.

And Emma also wanted to stop by her parents' home to pick up her and Henry’s things (as they had left New York with almost nothing). The fact that these possessions even existed in the “new” Storybrooke was really rather peculiar too, he reflected. It was all due to magic - When the new curse had re-materialized the town in this land, all of the original buildings (and their contents) had winked back into existence in almost exactly the same form as before. It was just one more oddity in a very strange and perplexing situation.

Finally getting sleepy, Killian closed his eyes. As he drifted off, he suddenly knew exactly what he was going to do for Emma and Henry’s Christmas.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Swan AU that to some extent still follows the basic premise of S2 and S3 of the series - Set immediately after my earlier tale, "Winter's Night", and after series episodes, "Going Home" and "New York Serenade." 
> 
> Another secret is revealed when Killian and Emma bring tragic news to Regina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

Storybrooke - Early That Morning

Killian and Emma had decided to drop by Regina’s before heading to the town hall meeting. They pulled up to the mayor’s colonial style home and parked in the front drive. Snow frosted the rose bushes and wide lawn, lending them the look of a cake sprinkled with powdered sugar. On the front door was a huge wreath made of evergreens and holly, its red berries sparkling in the dim winter sunlight.

It was rather crowded in Emma’s VW, as her and Henry’s possessions filled the back seat. Killian, his long legs crammed into the tiny car, sighed as his fiancée turned the ignition off. “Well, Swan, another difficult meeting in a day of difficult meetings.” 

She turned to look at him. “I know. But it’s better that she hears it from us.”

“Agreed.” The pirate opened the car door and climbed out of the front seat. He grabbed a large suitcase containing some of Henry’s clothing and personal belongings. “At any rate, Regina will be less unpleasant to deal with than your mother was this morning.” Mary Margaret had been civil when they stopped by for Emma and Henry’s belongings, but her sour facial expression whenever she glanced at him spoke volumes. He shook his head. She was definitely not an easy person to win over.

“Well, at least this time she didn’t go off on a rant about you being a pirate.”

Killian grimaced. “She’s probably saving that for this evening.”

“God, I hope not.” Emma slammed the Volkswagen’s door. “Anyway, David let everyone in town know about this morning’s meeting, so there should be a full crowd in attendance when we get there.”

“Nothing like being the bearers of bad tidings,” the pirate muttered.

Emma shrugged. “Unfortunately, that does seem to be the order of the day. On a brighter note: Regina was pretty cool about you being Henry’s father.”

“Do you think she understood that I’m his actual father? Perhaps she thought you meant step-father to be, or some such thing?”

“Well, now that you mention it, I don’t know. I assumed she knew what I meant, but maybe not. I didn’t have time yesterday on the pier to really go into any detail, what with everyone else there, and listening in. But you must admit, she has been supportive of us…I mean…our engagement and all.”

Together they walked up the drive to the house, their boots crunching in the snow. “Aye, she was very sympathetic,” he replied. “She’s not a bad sort when you get to know her, once you get past all of those prickly defenses of hers.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah, Regina’s changed a lot since I first met her, and for the better.”

"As you know, Regina taught me magic, so that I would be better armed in my search for you and Henry. She was a good teacher, understanding, patient, and surprisingly kind. After lessons, we used to talk. She really does regret all of the evil things she’s done. Losing Henry was a big shock. What she wants now is just to be with him, and to find some measure of happiness.”

“She did a good job raising Henry,” Emma said. “He’s a great kid, and I’m glad we decided to share custody of him with her. I really do hope Regina discovers her bliss - it's time she finally has some joy in her life.”

“We all need joy, beloved,” Killian replied, and swooped down for a quick kiss.

Smiling, Emma reached out, and affectionately caressed the side of his face.

They reached the front door, and rang the bell. From inside they could hear Christmas carols playing, and the staccato clatter of high heels on marble. Regina threw open the door. She was clad in a smart black pants suit and ivory sweater that complemented her glossy dark hair. Behind her, a beautifully decorated tree soared to the high ceiling, shining with hundreds of tiny white lights and antique glass ornaments, all fragile as a dream. The room smelled of Douglas fir and more faintly, of cinnamon and vanilla.

“Thanks for bringing over some of Henry’s things,” Regina said. “Come in, you two. Do you have time for a hot drink?”

Emma shook her head. “We just had coffee, but thank you anyway.” She glanced around. “Your home looks lovely, Regina, very Christmas-y.”

“Thank you - I do enjoy decorating for the holidays,” Regina said. “There’s a comfort in beautiful things. And I wanted everything to look especially nice, since Henry is finally home.”

“Speaking of Henry – Where is he?” Killian asked, setting the suitcase down in the spacious living room. With a considering expression, he observed Emma, who had wandered over to the tree, and was admiring some of the delicate ornaments.

“Robin took him and Roland to the park so they could have a little fun before the town meeting started,” Regina said. “They’ll meet us there at ten o’clock.”

“That’s good that the kid’s out of the house,” Emma murmured.

The mayor stared curiously. 

“We have something to tell you, Regina,” Killian said gently. “Perhaps you should sit down.”

**********

The two women sat close together on the elegant brocade sofa, with Killian ensconced on a nearby armchair, facing them. The light filtering through the huge picture windows was silvery, as if they were all enclosed in an iridescent soap bubble, and the Christmas tree glittered like ice. Regina’s posture was tense; She leaned forward, her hands clasped tightly together, scarlet nails biting into her flesh.

They had agreed to tell her only the bare minimum about Cora’s involvement with the Witch. It wasn’t something that could be discussed at the town hall, or at the cocktail party in the evening. Privacy was required, as well as the utmost delicacy and compassion on their part.

As it was, Regina broke down sobbing as Killian quietly told her how the Witch had re-animated her mother’s dead body and stolen her magic, then turned her into a soulless vessel sent to kill them and Henry. As to the grotesque physical transformation Cora had suffered at the Witch’s hands, and the full details of her gory demise, this they did not share. Regina had already suffered enough because of her evil mother; she didn’t need to know that Cora had become in truth the monster she had always been.

“There was no other way?” the dark haired woman finally asked, tears streaming down her face. In the background, cheery holiday tunes made an incongruous contrast to the somber discussion at hand.

Emma put her arms around Regina. “I’m sorry, but there was no other way. She swore that after killing us, she was going to drain Henry of magic, and then torture and murder him too.” She stared helplessly over Regina’s head, at Killian.

“She was no longer your mother, Regina,” he said. “Her soul had already fled, it was just her body, given artificial life, doing the Witch’s bidding.”

Regina nodded. “It sounds similar to those strange experiments that Victor performed on his brother, and my poor Daniel. How ghastly.” She shuddered. “The Witch hates me, and has always hated Mother. I guess it was her way of finally getting even with her.”

“I think so,” Killian replied. “But your mother’s at peace now, and forever out of reach of the Witch and her spells. She can never be made into a pawn again.”

Sniffing, Regina said, “Well, there’s that at least.” She wiped at her eyes, smearing mascara. “I appreciate you and Emma telling me. It just goes to show what sort of menace we’re dealing with here. Not that my mother wasn’t also a horrible person in her own right. She was…well…to be frank…extremely twisted, even though she’d never admit it.” She gazed starkly at them, tears glistening in her dark eyes. “I was just as bad, and just as delusional - But no more.” Standing, she brushed some imaginary dirt from her jacket lapel. “Well, I guess I better get cleaned up. I must look a mess.” 

“Would you like to drive over with us?” Emma asked. “We can wait. I know what a shock this must be.”

Regina shook her head. “It is…but…really, I’m all right.” She was silent for a long moment, and then finally said, “I lost my mother to evil magic a long, long time ago. It’s not like we ever had much of a relationship. I loved her, but I also hated her.” She sniffed again. “You two go on – I’ll join you soon.”

Emma stood, and laid her hand on Regina’s shoulder. She had that stubborn expression that meant she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Look, I don’t want to be bossy, but you really shouldn’t be alone at a time like this. It’s no trouble, we’re glad to drive you.”

“But I’m supposed to take Robin and the boys home afterward,” the other woman protested. “We can't all fit in your car.” 

“We can take your vehicle, Regina,” the pirate cut in. “And leave Swan’s little bug here. After the meeting, you can drive us all back. Swan is right – Please come with us.”

Regina looked down at the carpeted floor. “Okay,” she said at last. “Just let me re-do my makeup, and then we can leave.” Raising moist eyes, she suddenly smiled. “And thank you – Thank you both for your friendship, and for your support. It means a lot to me." Almost stammering, she added in a sad, barely audible voice, " I...I've had very few friends in my life - At first, because Mother wouldn't allow it, and later because I was too wrapped up in thoughts of pride and vengeance, and glorying in my persona of the "Evil Queen".

"No more of that," Emma said firmly, as she and Killian exchanged looks, and nodded at each other. It was about time that someone finally took this lonely woman, with her wounded soul, under their wings, and helped her to turn it around for the better. Reaching out, Emma gently took Regina's hand in hers. "Besides," she said softly. "That's what friends are for."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Swan AU that to some extent still follows the basic premise of S2 and S3 of the series - Set immediately after my earlier tale, "Winter's Night". 
> 
> Storybrooke is in terrible danger from an unknown foe, and Killian and Emma have called a town hall meeting to discuss the situation. As they attempt to reason with the frightened community, all hell breaks loose. Can the brave pirate and Emma survive this deadly new menace?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking + some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

Storybrooke Town Hall - Mid Morning

The town hall meeting was intense, filled with angry and frightened citizens, all loudly talking at once, and demanding answers to the mysterious and horrific happenings that were plaguing them.

People were vanishing all over Storybrooke, and at the same time, strange mutant creatures had suddenly materialized - Apes of enormous size and uncanny intelligence, their mouths filled with razor sharp teeth, their great bat-like wings spreading shadows of unease over the town. Everyone was on edge, and looking over their shoulders. Some even suspected their neighbors of being part of this evil vanguard, and a disturbing lynch mob mentality was starting to emerge.

Leroy - always one of the more volatile Storybrooke residents - abruptly stood up. “If you ask me, I think our former Queen is behind all of this," he growled, staring straight at Regina. "Maybe she needs a little “persuasion” to get her to admit it!” 

The crowd muttered their agreement, with several of them calling for Regina’s immediate arrest and imprisonment. A few jumped to their feet, aggressively demanding that David and Mary Margaret turn her over to them for rough vigilante justice.

Regina’s face blanched, and as Leroy and his supporters turned menacingly toward her, she threw up her hands in a defensive gesture, and an orb of fire appeared, glowing brightly in her cupped palms. 

“Stand down, Regina - please,” Emma urged in a low voice. “Reacting like this will only help convince them of your guilt, and make things worse.”

The other woman nodded tensely, and the fire dwindled away. Robin Hood, standing nearby, put his hand on his sword, and glowered at Leroy.

David attempted to sooth the townsfolk, who were quickly degenerating into a mob. “While you have every right to be suspicious of Regina, considering our past history with her, I don’t believe she’s to blame for what’s going on now. We all need to keep calm and work together if we’re going to survive this. Nothing will be solved if we turn on each other.”

“Yeah, well, I beg to differ, Your Highness,” Leroy retorted. “Everything bad that’s ever happened to us can be laid at that bitch’s door. I think a little eye for an eye is just what this town needs.”

The former King George, sensing the mood was swinging towards violence (always his preferred solution) did his best to fan the flames. “You’re not worthy to rule!” he shouted belligerently, directing his tirade towards David and Mary Margaret. “The two of you and your daughter - and that damned pirate of hers - just mouth platitudes, while our people are disappearing, or perhaps even being murdered!” He glared, his lips set in a narrow line. “Time to give over the reins of power to someone who can actually do something to save this community!”

“And I suppose that someone would be you?” David said.

“Damned right!” George snapped back. Reaching into his coat pocket, he started toward the prince.

Killian stepped in front of David, his expression steely. “Calm down and go back to your seat – You’re out of line.”

There was a hushed silence in the room.

George snarled and ran at the pirate, a long knife glittering in his hand. 

Killian twisted aside, and reaching out with his hook, wrenched the blade from the other man’s grasp, and then kicked him to the floor. Staring down with disgust at the former king, he drew his cutlass, and pressed its sharp point firmly against George’s chest. “Now behave,” he said, his soft Irish brogue laced with menace. “Or next time I won’t be so gentle.”

“You’ll pay for that, pirate,” George threatened, staggering upright. With some difficulty, he lurched back toward his seat.

“I’ve heard that before,” Killian smirked. “And it’s “Captain” to you.” He picked up George’s dagger, and thrust it into one of his coat pockets. “I’ll just keep this for now.” Looking out over the chastened assembly, he added sardonically, “Now, can we get on with this meeting in a more civilized manner?”

Murmuring his name, Emma rushed to Killian and with relief, embraced him. With her arms still clinging to her beloved, she turned angrily to the former king. “Raise a hand to my fiancé or my parents again, pal, and you’re a dead man.”

“When this is all over, George,” David promised, “There will be a reckoning for what you did to poor Gus...and for what you did to Snow all those years ago.”

George frowned, but wisely said nothing.

Turning to Killian, the prince said, “Thank you for watching my back.”

“Always, mate,” the pirate replied, saluting the other man with his hook. Mary Margaret, standing beside her husband, stared at Killian with a thoughtful expression, and gave a little nod of appreciation.

The meeting dragged on, minus any more violent outbursts. Emotions were running high, and the babble of voices rose along with it, giving Emma a headache. The pirate, sensing his beloved’s distress, leaned over and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. Sotto voce he said, “Not much longer, Swan, then we can go home and rest a bit before tonight’s get together on the Jolly Roger.”

“That would be nice,” she said softly. “After all - We’re not doing much good with this bunch.”

“They’re frightened, beloved, you can’t really blame them.”

Killian and Emma parried more anxious questions, but were restrained with their responses, as they wanted to avoid further panic. Things were already bad enough, and it was becoming rapidly apparent that the fragile sanity of the town wouldn't survive any more revelations. The appearance of the monkeys had tipped many of the townsfolk into full-blown paranoia. Should they learn of the Witch and the even greater threat she posed, the community might descend to violence and total chaos. The pirate and Emma suspected this was exactly what Zelena intended - and it was what they wanted to avoid, at all costs. With this in mind, they decided to keep their fears to themselves, instead urging everyone to be cautious and to keep a cool head. 

But the mood of the citizenry remained fretful and suspicious. As the meeting finally wound down, a terrifying form suddenly burst through the front windows of the town hall, shards of jagged glass trailing in its wake. The huge winged ape, its red eyes glowing with malevolent glee, swooped over the screaming crowd, seeking a victim. With a shriek of triumph, it plucked Leroy from his seat. He yelled, writhing helplessly in the beast's grasp, as it turned to flee with him through the broken window. 

Emma pulled out her automatic, but there were too many people in the way for her to get a clear shot. Killian drew his cutlass, and with unswerving aim, threw it over Leroy's head, and at the monstrous ape. It screeched as cold steel pierced one of its flapping wings, bringing it and its hapless prey crashing to the ground. Leroy, attempting to crawl away, was yanked brutally back. As the creature opened its slavering jaws wide to tear the dwarf's throat out, Killian ran forward, and stabbed it through the heart.

Retrieving his bloody sword, Killian scanned the windows for any further threats, but thankfully none appeared. He turned to the dead ape, and to his astonishment, saw that the body had disappeared. All that remained was a smear of blood.

“My God,” Emma muttered. “It’s Walsh all over again.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Swan AU that to some extent still follows the basic premise of S2 and S3 of the series - Set immediately after my earlier tale, "Winter's Night". 
> 
> Killian and Emma, needing a little time to recover from the horror of the town hall meeting, return to the sanctuary of their home aboard the Jolly Roger. The advent of the flying monkey attack has deeply shaken Emma, reminding her of New York and her time with the treacherous Walsh. As the storm gathers over Storybrooke, can the gallant captain convince his beloved that their love is strong enough to defeat the evil that is coming?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking + some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

Storybrooke Harbor - Late Morning

Aboard the Jolly Roger, Emma sat uneasily in the cushioned window seat of their cabin, staring out at the quiet waters of the bay. Snow fell, shrouding the sullen gray of sky and harbor with an opalescent veil. She felt as depressed as the view. "That meeting was an utter disaster," she sighed. "All Zelena has to do is sit back and wait for the town to destroy itself. She won't have to raise a finger at this rate." She glanced up at Killian, her expression stark. "How are we going to fight this thing and keep the damned town sane?"

“We’ll find a way, love,” Killian said. He sat down beside her, and gently pulled her into his arms.

She settled against his leather-clad chest, her chin resting comfortably on his shoulder. As always, his strength and loving presence soothed her, as only he could. “What would I do without you, Killian?” she murmured.

He smiled. “You managed pretty well over the years, Swan, you’re a very resourceful and determined woman – but – I’m certainly glad you feel that way about me.” He claimed her mouth in a kiss. “And I feel exactly the same about you.”

“What are we going to do about all of this?”

“Nothing for now – except stay alert to any possible danger, our weapons within easy reach, and our magic focused and ready. Soon the Witch will follow her winged minions - it's only a matter of time - and when that happens, we'll need to act fast and strike hard.”

“Those monkeys…” Emma shivered. “They remind me of that damned Walsh.”

“Ah yes – Walsh,” the pirate echoed, his tone grim. “He was quite a piece of work, wasn’t he?” The thought of that being (or whatever he was) with Emma for the last eight months, deceiving her and Henry, creeping into their lives, pretending love, when all the time he was plotting murder, angered Killian to his core. If Emma hadn’t killed the transformed Walsh on that New York rooftop, he certainly would have, and without a qualm. Assuming, of course, that Walsh _was_ truly dead.

Emma stared into Killian’s eyes, her own wet with tears. “When I think of how Walsh was able to trick me into believing he was just a normal guy who “loved” me...my God...and that farce of a marriage proposal. Then when he suddenly turned into that creature and attacked me - it was horrible - how could I have been so deluded?”

“It’s all past now, Swan – Please, don’t berate yourself. After all, you were under another amnesia curse. There was no way you could have known what Walsh really was. Who would have guessed?”

She wrapped her arms tightly around Killian. “The entire time Walsh was “courting” me, I could never quite let my guard down and totally trust him. He always seemed just a little too bland and “normal” and nice to be true. Maybe it’s just my usual suspicious nature, but at times I’d glance up and find him watching Henry and I with this really peculiar, sinister expression. It frightened me, but I always put it down to nerves. Now I guess I know why I felt that way.” 

Killian stroked her hair. “It was that super power of yours, Swan, giving you a heads up.”

“That night in the restaurant, you had just left the table, and my mind was reeling. I thought you were some crazy guy, yet at the same time, I didn’t want you to go. When you walked out, it was like my entire heart and soul went with you. I was so damned confused! And then Walsh sprang his creepy little “surprise” on me - the ring in the dessert, and the proposal. I knew immediately that I couldn’t accept.”

“More of that sixth sense of yours?”

Emma touched his face, her fingers light as a butterfly against his skin. “No, it was because of _you_ , Killian. When you suddenly appeared that night, like my own beautiful leather-clad angel, something shifted deep inside of me – even before I drank the potion.”

“I’m no angel, Swan,” the pirate said. “But for you and our son, I sincerely hope that I have became a better man.”

“The best of men,” Emma replied, “And the man I love.” She paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “But the things I said to you at the time, the things I did – even getting you arrested - All of that must have wounded you deeply. And then there was Walsh. I can only imagine how disturbing that must have been. You cross worlds to save me, and when you finally get here, I’m involved with another guy.” 

“I would happily endure anything to save you, beloved - All that matters now is that we are together again, where we belong.”

“Although the damned creep had it right – You _are_ my true love, and you’re also Henry’s real father. I wonder if Walsh really knew all along, and was just pretending to get me to admit it?” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Killian, how can you ever forgive me?”

The pirate captain gently cupped her face in his hand. “Emma – my dearest love – We’ve had this talk before. You have nothing to apologize for. You were cursed – Just as you were when Cora cursed us eleven years ago. And with all of those lost memories flooding into your mind – overwhelming you - of course you were upset and disturbed. You just needed time to process it all.” He smiled faintly. “Besides, I felt quite wretched myself, knowing that my arrival and the potion would destroy the fragile happiness you had built for yourself and Henry in New York. But like lancing a wound, I knew it had to be done.”

“You were right,” she said softly. “It was all a lie. And the truth, no matter how difficult it may seem at first, is always better than a lie. I’m glad you kept faith with me and our boy – That you came back for us.”

“Nothing can ever keep me from you and our son, Swan. I will always come back for you.” He winked at her. “Haven’t I always?”

Emma smiled. “Yes - You always come back - Just as you promised me eleven years ago, when Cora cursed us.”

He reached out, and took her hand in his. "Aye, Swan, you are the light that forever guides me home, out of darkness. You've always trusted me, for which I am eternally grateful. And in New York, even with your memory clouded, you still took my word – that of a seeming stranger and possible lunatic – and you drank that potion without flinching. That act of faith alone told me that somehow you still remembered me – remembered _us_.” He smiled at her, his clear blue eyes full of love. “You and I are soul mates, and nothing can keep us permanently apart - even the most malicious curse will always fail." 

Emma stared up into the pirate's handsome face. "My trust in you, Killian, will never falter, nor will my love. But there's so much happening - Sometimes I wonder if we'll survive. What if we don't? What will happen to Henry? To my parents and the town? There's so much riding on us - frankly, it's damned scary. At times, I feel pretty confidant that we can do this...but then - there are days - like this morning - when I just don't know."

"It will be okay, Swan." He laid his hand upon her heart. "Can't you feel the truth of it - In here? We're together, and we have the strength of our love - and with that, we can accomplish miracles."

She nodded. " _You're_ my miracle, Killian." She reached up and her lips met his in a long, burning kiss. "You know - We have a little more free time before we have to get ready for tonight's gathering." Wiping the tears from her face, Emma suddenly grinned, a wicked glint in her jade eyes. "What do you say?"

Gently, he turned down the collar of her sweater, and kissed her delicate collarbone, his lips wandering from there to her throat, and finally to the exquisite paradise of her mouth. "I say... _yes_."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night has fallen, and aboard the Jolly Roger, Emma and the pirate captain await the arrival of their guests. Concerned about the dangers Zelena and her winged army pose to Storybrooke, Emma shares her fears with Killian, who has secret worries of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking ~ Also contains some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

Evening – The Jolly Roger – Captain’s Cabin

Emma stared at herself in the full-length mirror that Killian had installed for her on the back of their cabin door, pivoting around to get a better view. She was clad in her signature red leather jacket over a black lace tee shirt and slim black denim jeans, with high black engineer boots. Her pistol was tucked into the waistband of her pants. Nervously, she brushed her hands through her long, blonde hair.

“You look ravishing, Swan,” Killian said, coming up behind her, and tenderly pushing her hair aside to place a searing kiss to the back of her neck. “I quite like the red and black on you.” He tilted his head, and grinned. “Very sexy.”

His beautiful fiancée turned around. “The black is to show solidarity with you, Hook.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. “I’m glad you approve.”

“Aye, I definitely approve - But you’re exquisite no matter what you wear,” the pirate replied gallantly. “And also when you’re clad in nothing but your own lovely skin.” Blue eyes gleaming, he playfully ran his hook down her arm. “We do have a little time before our guests arrive...”

Emma laughed. “No, we don’t – they’ll be here any minute – but as soon as they’re gone…” She let her voice trail off suggestively.

He raised one dark brow and smirked. “I will hold that enticing thought in my mind - It will give me strength to endure tonight’s visit with your kith and kin.” 

“Let’s hope they behave themselves,” Emma said. 

“Indeed, let us hope,” the pirate replied and pulled Emma to him for another burning kiss. “But at least we’ll have them all together for our little announcement – which is surely better than having to visit them all one by one to explain our tale.”

She ran her fingers gently over Killian’s face, enjoying the warmth of his skin, and the elegant contour of his bone structure. “We are missing two people, though.”

The pirate nodded, his expression suddenly a bit somber. “Ah yes – Neal and his much esteemed papa.”

“No one has seen either of them in town – Damned strange if you ask me. I wonder if anything has happened to them?”

“A good question, Swan, and definitely worrisome - But I’m sure they’ll eventually turn up.”

“They could be dead – or worse.” She looked suddenly afraid. “What if they’ve been transformed into things like Walsh? You told me what happened to Little John, after that winged monkey bit him. I’m starting to wonder if that’s really Zelena’s grand plan – to gradually turn everyone into monsters, after stripping all of us of our magic and life force. Like she did with Cora.”

“We will stop the Witch, whatever her foul plan,” Killian replied in a determined voice. “And somehow we will find a way to return her victims to their true forms.”

“Killian - What if that ape you killed to save Leroy was one of our own? Neal - or Gold - or some other poor soul that Zelena transformed?” 

The pirate stared into Emma’s troubled green eyes. “Beloved, I can not say if that creature was a bewitched human, or simply a minion of Zelena’s – but there was no choice. Had I not acted when I did, the ape would have killed Leroy then and there. Unfortunately, we are going to have to make some very tough choices if we and the town are going to survive.”

“You’re right, Killian,” she acknowledged. “But it’s what makes this fight so horrible. And it could happen to any of us – all it takes is one bite!”

“Then we will just have to be extra careful, Swan,” the pirate said. “Please, try not to worry.” He held her close, giving comfort with his touch. But despite his reassuring words, privately he had grave concerns. Dark days were ahead, and the enemy they faced was intelligent and treacherous. As well, his courageous beloved had a tendency to rush in where angels feared to tread. He must in truth be guardian angel to her and their son, and do all in his power to keep them safe, no matter the cost. But of this, he said nothing, only murmuring that it was time to go on deck and welcome their guests.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With family and friends tensely gathered on the Jolly Roger, the pirate captain and his beloved Swan finally open up. It's time to share their most precious, and long-held secret - A secret that began eleven years ago, in a little book shop in Portland, Oregon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking ~ Also contains some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

Main Deck - The Jolly Roger

The pirate captain’s eyes followed Emma as she paced nervously along the Jolly Roger’s main deck. Behind her, their guests stood uncomfortably around the table, making awkward small talk, crystal wine flutes clutched in their hands. Mary Margaret, who was abstaining due to her pregnancy, held a bottle of flavored mineral water, from which she kept taking tiny sips. The wind had come up, and the candles wavered in their thin glass holders, throwing golden reflections across the darkened ship. The night was cold, and against the clear jet sky, the full moon shone like a pearl, a few early stars sparkling on the distant horizon. Only the two boys – Henry and Roland – looked relaxed, as they guzzled soda, and nibbled at cheese and canapés.

Killian sauntered over to his beloved, and put his arm around her waist. “Well, Swan – Do you want to start, or shall I?”

She gazed up at him, her eyes almost frightened. “Um – why don’t you?”

“As you wish, beloved.”

He faced the little group at the table, and cleared his throat. “Thank you, everyone, for coming tonight. I know you’re probably all wondering what Swan and I have to tell you…”

“Just get on with it,” Mary Margaret cut in, belligerently waving her water bottle in his direction.

“Snow…” David began wearily.

His wife ignored him. “Well? What’s the big revelation? We already know you’re… _engaged_ … to our daughter.” Only Mary Margaret could make the word “engaged” sound like an abomination. "You're not pregnant, are you? Oh my God, Emma - Please tell me that you're not expecting this pirate's baby."

In exasperation, the blonde threw her hands up in the air. "Mary Margaret - Mother - What the hell kind of thing is that to say? You really need to stop with the bigoted remarks - get over yourself. But no, that's not it - not exactly, anyway."

Killian laid a comforting hand on his beloved's shoulder, and glowered at her mother. "I don't care what you think of me, Mary Margaret - You've made it crystal clear that as a lowly pirate, I'm beneath your royal contempt. But I will not allow you to disrespect Swan - Please show a little compassion and understanding for your daughter."

Mary Margaret's eyes widened with rage, but before she could respond, David interrupted. "If you're not - um - expecting - then _what_ exactly are you trying to tell us?" He seemed genuinely baffled. "You two are actually engaged - right?"

Killian sighed. “Aye, we are betrothed…and that brings us to what we wish to share with you tonight. It all started when I first met Swan, eleven years ago in Portland, Oregon.”

“Portland?” Regina suddenly said. “When were you ever in Portland?”

“Eleven years ago,” the pirate explained patiently, “Cora and I journeyed from the Enchanted Forest to Portland, aboard the Jolly Roger. Your mother was seeking magical books to help her destroy Rumplestiltskin, and had dragooned me to assist her.”

“That would figure,” the former queen said. "She was always quite the grudge holder." 

“What has that got to do with our daughter?” David asked, a bit sharply. Although he had become rather fond of Killian, any mention of the sorceress Cora sent him into over-protective father mode.

“Well, David…Dad….” Emma said. “When Killian was searching for those books, he bumped into me. Or rather, I bumped into him.” Remembering her very first glimpse of the dashing pirate captain on that long ago day in Portland, she sent him an affectionate glance. “We – uh – started to hang out with one another, and – uh – soon became good friends.”

“Friends with fringe benefits, no doubt,” Mary Margaret growled. “Typical pirate – taking advantage of an innocent young girl.”

“Well, to be honest, we pretty much fell in love with each other at first sight,” Emma corrected, glaring at her mother. “No one took advantage of me. At eighteen, I was an adult, and quite capable of making up my own mind.”

“I thought you were seeing Neal back then,” Mary Margaret said. Nervously she took another sip of her mineral water. “But now you tell us you were actually cheating on him with this pirate. How could you, Emma? Neal’s the father of your child - why would you take up with this – this - scoundrel, charming as he may be?”

“Well,” Killian interjected. “At least you finally admit I’m charming.” He laughed lightly. “Although, of course, I know you’re fond of that nick name – but, alas, I am no prince.”

“No, you most certainly are not,” Mary Margaret snapped. Her eyes darted to Henry and Roland. “I really don’t think we should be having this talk in front of the boys.”

“This concerns Henry – he stays,” Emma said firmly. “But Robin will have to decide about Roland.”

The handsome outlaw smiled crookedly and saluted Emma and Killian with his wine glass, which was almost empty. “It’s quite all right – Roland’s too young to really understand any of this anyway - Not that he’s even interested – his entire attention is on those canapés.” He laughed. “So – please - carry on – I find this all quite fascinating.”

“Yes, Hook, do carry on,” Regina urged. “I’m quite – interested – to hear more about what my mother was doing while you and Emma were playing house in Portland.”

“Knowing your mother, she was probably trying to kill someone,” Mary Margaret commented snidely.

The former queen’s eyes narrowed. “Possibly – but you’re not exactly little miss non-violence either, are you?”

“Now, ladies…” Killian interrupted, holding up his hand. “Let’s play nice.”

Both royal women glared at him, and sniffed, almost simultaneously.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Let’s get past this, okay? Now – where were we? Oh yeah - Killian and I fell in love – and - Just for the record, I hadn’t even met Neal yet. He came after Killian, quite a bit after.”

“Speaking of Neal - Where is he?” Mary Margaret asked, directing a suspicious glance toward Killian. “We haven’t seen him or his father since we all awakened back here in Storybrooke.”

“How should I know?” the pirate said, not bothering to keep the annoyance from his voice. “It’s as big a mystery to Swan and I as it is to the rest of you.”

“Neal’s not the issue at the moment,” Emma declared. “The bottom line is that Killian here is the first man I ever loved – and – the _only_ man I love. And, just in case you were wondering, he proposed to me back then - in Portland.”

Henry was watching the proceedings with interest, his eyes zipping back and forth from one person to the other. While it was a bit alarming to see his relatives arguing with each other, it was also rather exhilarating. He set down the electronic game he'd been playing, and grabbed another canapé.

“I just don’t get it,” David grumbled. With a sigh, he picked up the bottle of white wine, and poured a generous amount into his glass. He took a long swallow, and sighed again. “You meet Hook, fall in love, he proposes to you, and presumably you accept. Yet you don’t end up getting married – and Neal’s not even in the picture yet?” 

“It’s complicated, mate,” the pirate said. “Anyway, I proposed, and Emma had just said “yes”, making me the happiest of men, when Regina’s mum suddenly appeared.” 

“And?” Regina said.

“She cursed us.”

“She what?” 

“You heard me,” Killian said. “Your mum cursed us.”

“Cursed you?” Mary Margaret exclaimed.

“Yes – she cursed us,” Emma confirmed, her tone decidedly irritated. If she never heard the word "cursed" again, it would be too soon. “With an amnesia spell – that could only be broken by True Love’s Kiss - and for some reason, she said it would work, even if we didn't remember each other. I'm not sure why she added that bit, but at any event, she did. Then she hauled Killian back off to the Enchanted Forest, minus his memories of me, and left me all alone in Portland, without any memories of him.” She paused, and a tear slowly slid down her cheek. “Alone - and pregnant with Killian's child." Wiping her eyes, she stared fiercely at her mother. "Yes, Henry's real father is the _pirate_ that you seem to hate so much. To make things even worse, I was also doomed to believe that Neal was the father of my child, even though he wasn’t - that was part of the curse too. God, I hadn’t even met the guy yet." 

Stunned, Mary Margaret, David, and Regina all stared at the pirate and Emma with horrified fascination. Robin Hood took another swig of his wine, and Henry, his eyes enormous, plucked a whole-wheat cracker from a nearby platter. The dead silence that had greeted his mother’s revelation was suddenly broken by the loud sound of crunching as he bit into his snack.

“I…I don’t believe it,” Mary Margaret said. “It’s not possible. He can't be Henry's father - The pirate must have you under some sort of spell.” She turned angrily to Regina. “Didn’t you teach him magic? That must be it!”

“Don’t blame me for this,” Regina snarled back, and in an aside to Killian, “You must have really pissed off my mother.”

“Understatement,” Emma said. “But – whether any of you believe us or not – it’s the truth. Cora cursed us, and so when I met Neal, I believed he was Henry’s dad – but he’s not. Never was, never will be. It sucks for him, but it really sucked worse for Killian and I, and for Henry. Our little family was torn apart, and because of the damned curse, we didn't even know what was really happening. ” She started pacing again. “We spent eleven long years forcibly separated, not even our memories to keep us warm – until finally we met up again in the Enchanted Forest.” As she wandered the deck, Emma kept glancing over at Killian, whose chiseled features reflected back his love and concern for her. “And there we started to fall in love all over again. It turned out that Cora couldn’t stop us from finding and loving each other, after all. And when I finally kissed Killian in Neverland, it broke the curse, and all of our memories at last came flooding back.”

“This is so strange,” David said. “I can certainly relate to what you the two of you went through - But Neal? He really believes he’s Henry’s father.”

“Only because I told him so,” Emma replied, and as her mother opened her mouth to object, she added, “Please don’t tell me again what a nice guy Neal is. I never told you and David, but Neal abandoned me to the law, leaving me to take the fall for his crime, and to rot in jail. He didn’t know I was pregnant, of course, not that I think it would have made any difference. And he never came looking for me…unlike Killian…who never gave up on me…who came back to save me, like he always does.”

David looked really angry, in full father mode again. "Neal just abandoned you? What sort of man does that?"

“My God,” Mary Margaret cried. “We didn’t know – it’s all so unbelievable.”

“Aye, you keep saying that,” Killian said. He walked to Emma’s side, and pulled her into his arms. “Swan is mine, and I am hers. If we have anything to say about it, we’ll never be parted from each other again.” He held out his hand to Henry. “Nor will we parted from our son.” 

With a grin, the boy stood and bounded over to his parents, enveloping them both in a huge bear hug.

“When you told me on the pier, I thought you meant step-father,” Regina said to Emma.

“No – he’s Henry’s real father,” the blonde replied. “I hope you’re okay with this.”

The dark haired woman crossed her arms. "It's like something from the Twilight Zone." 

"Says the Evil Queen," Killian murmured. 

Regina ignored his comment, and started to smile. “Actually, I’m fine with it. More than fine. After all, it was sort of awkward sharing Henry with Rumple and his son.” 

“Well, " David said, "Now you’ll have to share Henry with Emma - and a pirate.” 

“Captain,” Killian corrected automatically. 

Emma smiled to herself, carefully touching the glittering edge of her fiancé’s hook. “ _My_ captain,” she said softly, and with all eyes upon her, turned and kissed Killian full on the lips.

There was another awkward silence. Finally Mary Margaret, blushing bright red, offered her hand to Killian. “Well, I guess apologies are in order,” she said in a gruff voice. “I'm – um - sorry for doubting you, Hook - I mean, Killian." 

Granted, it was a rather surly apology, but it was a start. "Apology accepted," Killian said. And ever the gallant, he took her hand, and kissed it. 

"So - what now?" David asked. "You getting married soon?"

"Hey - don't go all "Dad" on us," Emma said. "Of course, we're getting married - We've been trying to do so for years. We just haven't set a date yet." At her father's dubious expression, she added, "Believe me, you and Mary Margaret will be the first to know." She grinned. "So - Killian and I will be making our home here on the Jolly Roger. And - I guess - you can call this our engagement party."

The pirate captain gestured toward the table. "Shall we all drink to that?" 

He picked up a glass flute, and Emma filled it to the brim with red wine. Twining their hands around the delicate stem, they raised the glass. Emma smiled mistily, and took a sip. "To us, beloved," Killian said, and placing his lips exactly over where hers had touched the glass, took his own sip. 

As the pirate and his Swan exchanged loving glances over the rim of their flute, their guests, one by one, raised their own glasses, and saluted them.

Now, Emma thought, the only people they still needed to talk to were Neal and Gold, whenever they finally surfaced. She was particularly dreading telling Neal, as she didn't want to hurt him. But difficult as it would be, with Killian at her side, she could face anything. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awakening from a terrifying nightmare, Emma wonders if it's prophetic of things to come. Keeping his own fears to himself, Killian comforts his beloved, and privately vows to stop the dream from coming true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking ~ Also contains some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

The Jolly Roger – Captain’s Cabin – 3:00 a.m.

Emma was dreaming. 

Snow was falling heavily, and she was running through the woods, struggling to find her way through the endless trees that kept blocking her path. Where was he? “Killian!” she cried, her voice desperate with fear and longing. “Where are you?” After several terrifying moments, she finally spotted his tall form in the distance. Again, she called out his name. He turned and glanced back at her, his features indistinct in the darkness. There was the faint sound of laughter, hollow and mocking, and then he hurried away, deeper into the forest. Why did he run from her? 

“Killian!” she shouted.

And suddenly the dream shifted. She was in some sort of tortuous maze, the bare white walls closing in on her, no way out, and still no Killian. As she ran down endless corridors, there was always another one looming just ahead of her. Sometimes she would catch a quick glimpse of the pirate as he vanished around yet another corner, only the tip of his black coattails showing.

Emma was hyperventilating with fear by this point. As she raced down one dead-end after another, she kept whirling around and re-tracing her steps, her eyes constantly searching for a way-out, and for Killian. The sense of dread was building, becoming almost overwhelming.

As she darted along another hallway, she abruptly skidded to a halt. There he was at last, standing just a few feet away, his leather-clad back to her. “Killian!” she yelled, and ran towards him. Why didn’t he respond? As Emma reached out to him, he slowly started to turn around. His left arm rose, the steel hook glittering. 

But as his hook touched her shoulder, and he faced her, Emma screamed. It was not Killian, but another who pulled her into an unwelcome embrace, its face shifting in rapid succession from one form to another, all of them twisted with the same demonic glee. First appeared Neal, who coalesced into her father, quickly followed by Rumplestiltskin and Regina, and finally her mother, who morphed into a green-skinned woman with wild red hair, and eyes that glinted with evil. Still clad in Killian’s signature black leather coat, she roughly pushed Emma to the floor. In the woman's arms hung a limp Henry, and at her feet, was the still body of Killian himself, his eyes closed, and his face ashen, as if dead. The woman laughed maliciously. “You won’t be able to save your precious pirate or your son,” she taunted. “I will destroy them completely, along with you, and everyone else in this miserable town!”

Awakening, Emma screamed again, her voice shrilly piercing the darkness of the cabin. Someone was shaking her. She gasped, and turned in the bed. A shadowy form was beside her, and she felt a warm, comforting hand on her bare shoulder.

“Swan – It’s all right,” Killian murmured soothingly.

“K-Killian?” Emma stammered.

The pirate gently wrapped his arms around her, and drew her to him. Emma laid her head against his chest, and started to sob. “I thought I’d lost you and Henry.”

“It was just a nightmare,” he said. “You’re home, and safe with me. And Henry is safe at Regina’s - She won’t let any harm befall him.” Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he added, “Here, I’ll magic us a light.” He snapped his fingers, and a soft, mellow glow instantly spread across the cabin.

Emma stared up at him. “You’re really here – you’re okay?” She caressed his beloved face with anxious fingers.

Killian smiled. “Aye, my love, I’m here – and fine, as you can see.” He bent his head and kissed her softly on the lips. "And remember, I've placed a powerful protection spell around the Jolly Roger - if anyone tries to breech my wards, we will know, and take appropriate defensive action."

"It was horrible, Killian - First I was trapped in the woods, then in some sort of maze, trying to find you. Something kept luring me on - I thought it was you, but it wasn't. The figure I'd been chasing turned into a green-skinned woman. I can still hear her awful laughter." Emma pressed closer to the pirate, and with trembling arms, embraced him.

"You're been through a lot lately, beloved - It's no wonder you had a nightmare, try and forget about it," he replied, stroking her back. But his expression was troubled. There was only one person he knew of who fit that particular description. This did not bode well. He hesitated, then asked, "Was it Zelena?"

"Yes - yes, I think it was," Emma exclaimed. "Oh God, Killian - What if this is some kind of premonition? She threatened to kill you and Henry, and everyone in Storybrooke."

"We won't let that happen, Swan." Gazing into her jade eyes, he smiled reassuringly. "Tomorrow, when we meet with your parents, we'll figure this out. We can start with searching for the Witch - I'm certain she's here, hiding somewhere in town, or its outskirts. And when we find her - we'll stop her - once and for all." 

Tenderly, Killian pulled up the blankets and wrapped them around Emma, who was shivering with cold.

"I saw you and Henry," Emma said, her voice agonized. "You both looked - dead. I was devastated, and she just kept laughing, taking some kind of unholy pleasure from it all."

Keeping his arms around Emma, the pirate slid down under the covers. "Please try and go back to sleep, Swan - it was all just a dream."

Emma sighed, and closing her eyes, snuggled against him, the warmth of his naked body finally starting to ease the chill from her own. "Just a dream," she muttered, as Killian magically extinguished the light.

Just a dream - perhaps. But Killian was not so sure. What if her dream really was some sort of premonition? For a long while he laid there in the dark, wide-awake, holding his sleeping beloved close. If Emma's vision was indeed prophetic, he could not allow it to come true. But it was not his own demise he feared - as always, he was most concerned for the safety of Emma and their son. Anguished, he stared up into the darkness. The battle to stop Zelena promised to be deadly, and while he and Emma had powerful allies to aid them in their struggle, something could still go wrong. If that day came, and Emma and Henry were threatened, he would do whatever it took to protect them - even if it meant giving up his own life in the process.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unexpected tragedy strikes, and a grieving and guilt-stricken Emma turns to her soul mate, Killian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking ~ Also contains some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

Next Day – The Lake - Storybrooke

Killian kept his arm around Emma’s waist as they talked. Tears were running down her face, and his eyes were also moist.

“I couldn’t save him, Killian – and neither could Rumple,” Emma sobbed.

They sat, side by side, on a wooden bench beside the lake. The wind had risen. Little flurries of snow blew around them, and the ends of Emma’s long blonde hair fluttered under her knit cap. The lake looked frigid, reflecting back the overcast grayness of the winter sky, and the sorrow that Emma and Killian both felt, as they contemplated what had just occurred earlier that afternoon.

Neal had come back – only to be tragically lost forever, on the very same day as his return.

The blonde stared down at her hands, knotting her fingers tightly together in her agitation. “I should never have tried on my own to separate his soul from Rumple’s. My magic’s never been very stable - I should have waited for you or Regina to help me. Maybe then, working together, we could have all done something – anything – to cancel out the spell of the Dark One’s vault, and keep him alive.”

“Beloved – There was no time to wait – you had to act immediately – Neal himself told you that. And there was nothing you, or anyone else could have done to combat that curse. Even his father’s magic, great as it is, couldn’t save him,” Killian replied. “Neal was a dead man as soon as he opened that vault in the Enchanted Forest. There is always a terrible price to pay with dark magic - I’m just sorry that Neal had to be the one to pay it.”

He took one of her hands, and pressed a comforting kiss against the chilled skin of her palm. Sighing, he sadly remembered the young boy he had cared for so long ago, but failed to protect, and the man he had re-united with in friendship only that morning. Now that man was gone, having willingly forfeited his life to protect those he loved. It was a bitter pill for all of them to swallow.

With her eyes still lowered, Emma said, “I never told him, Killian. Just as I was working up the courage to, he collapsed – there was no time.” She was silent for a moment, remembering. “I owed him the truth – and yet I never told him. He died still believing he was Henry’s true father.” Glancing up, she added, “I’ve failed Neal – and I also feel that I’ve failed you.”

“My love – You failed no one.” Gently he lifted her chin, and stared intently into her eyes. Tears sparkled in their green depths. “Given the circumstances, it was better that you didn’t tell him.”

Emma opened her mouth to object.

“Please - Hear me out, Swan,” he said. “Neal was dying – What kindness would it have been to tell him - in his last hours on earth - about us, and that the boy he loved was not really his son? He died a hero - trying to protect, not just his father, but you and Henry. For that I honor him.” His expression was somber. “Neal had a hard life, one filled with much sorrow and anxiety. And while I never approved of the way he handled things eleven years ago with you – He did love you, in his own way. And he loved Henry.”

She sagged against Killian, her face pressed into his leather-clad chest. “But I was cursed when I met Neal – I never would have fallen in love with him at all, had you and I not been separated by Cora with her amnesia spell."

“That doesn’t change his love for you, Swan,” the pirate said gently. “Whatever you felt, once you were freed from the curse, his feelings for you were always genuine.” As Emma’s soul mate, it wounded the pirate deeply to admit that another man had played an important role in her life and been in love with her. But since Killian was always truthful when it came to Emma, he felt it would be wrong to deny the validity of Neal’s feelings for her.

“Once, I did love Neal,” she admitted. “And I still do – but not as a lover – only as a very dear and cherished friend. It’s _you_ I've always loved, Killian.”

Killian put both arms around Emma, and kissed her. "And I love you, my darling.” 

“As Neal was dying, he asked me to promise that Henry and I would be happy – I held him in my arms, Killian, and I promised we would be.” Sobbing, she wiped at her tear filled eyes. “His last thoughts were generous and loving. I’m going to miss him.”

“As will I, Swan - We all will.”

“That promise I made Neal – it’s already come true,” Emma said. “With you.”

“Dearest…” Killian murmured, and leaning forward, rested his forehead against hers. Slowly, he claimed her mouth in another kiss. 

For a long moment, they were both silent. Finally Emma said, “What about Henry? He was very upset when I told him that Neal had passed away.”

“The lad loves Neal – it’s going to be difficult for him to deal with his loss. But we will do our best to help him through this ordeal.” Thoughtfully, he gazed at the lake, and the softly drifting snow. "I thank the Gods each and every day that you and Henry are in my life.”

Emma laid her head on Killian’s shoulder. “Our son loves you too, Killian – he told me so.”

“For that, beloved, I am profoundly grateful.”

“There’s also the matter of Rumplestiltskin,” Emma said. “I won’t lie to him about us, or deny that Henry is our son - although I don’t look forward to that conversation. But Rumple seems to have disappeared again. When we all returned to the woods, to retrieve Neal’s body, he was gone.”

“That’s not good, Swan. I suspect that Zelena has captured him again, and is holding him somewhere for safe keeping until she has use for his magic. With the Dark One in her control, there’s no telling what horrors she can unleash on the town. We must find Rumplestiltskin and free him – and soon.”

Emma nodded. “All of this – The new curse and her vendetta against the town - Neal’s death - Rumple’s imprisonment - endangering my parents and their unborn child - _all_ of it is her fault.” Her tear-streaked face was grim. “Zelena must pay for what’s she done.”

“She will pay,” the pirate vowed. “Never fear.” He sounded confident, but privately a chill of apprehension swept his soul. Holding Emma close, he was afraid for her, and for their child.

The snow kept falling, swirling white across the pewter surface of the lake. Killian and Emma rose from their bench, and hand-in-hand, walked away. As they reached the parking lot, and Emma’s little yellow Volkswagen, the pirate thought he heard laughter, faint and scornful, whispering to him on the wind.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Eve: For some people, it's a time traditionally reserved for merriment, tree-trimming, and last minute gift shopping - but for Killian Jones and Emma Swan, it's a roller coaster ride of emotions, fraught with sorrow and danger - and a strange mystery that haunts the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking ~ Also contains some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

Christmas Eve – The Jolly Roger 

Emma thought that it had been one of the worst Christmas Eves she’d ever experienced, and that was saying a lot, considering her unfortunate history with the holiday. The only good thing about it was that Killian, Henry, and her family were safe, and for that, she was immensely grateful. She sighed, as memories of the day’s events washed over her.

*****

The morning had started out on a depressing note, with Neal’s funeral. The weather was as dreary as she felt, overcast and cold, with a biting wind. Grim-faced, Emma tossed a shovelful of dirt onto Neal’s coffin, her heart breaking as she heard it strike the lid. Only the presence of Killian at her side, strong and comforting as always, and their son, had got her through the painful ordeal.

Emma, her parents, and Belle spent the rest of the day in a mad rush to locate the missing Rumplestiltskin, while Regina searched for a means to defeat her sister. Needless to say, things had not gone well. Rumple was finally found, huddled in a cage, in the storm cellar of Zelena’s isolated farmhouse. Just as it seemed that Belle would be able to free him, the Witch suddenly appeared, and brandishing the Dagger of the Dark One, compelled the broken sorcerer to threaten them all with violence. Despairing, they were forced to retreat without him.

Night finally descended on Storybrooke. Zelena appeared on the town’s main street, elegantly decked out in her tall black hat and finery, an enormous emerald sparkling at her throat, with Rumplestiltskin in tow, and still under her control. Quickly realizing that Regina was missing, the Witch venomously threatened the town and its citizens with imminent destruction if her sister did not immediately show her face.

Emma, never one to back down from a fight, challenged her, but Zelena merely gestured with the Dagger, and Rumple was forced once again to do her bidding, magically throwing Emma backwards, and away from the Witch. The blonde landed hard on the pavement – even now, her back still ached from the fall. 

Moments later, Regina finally arrived on the scene, and after an acerbic exchange of insults, the magical duel between the sisters commenced. The battle was short and fierce, raging up and down the street, until finally the witch cornered her sibling in the town’s bell tower. Just as Zelena was about to gleefully rip the living heart from Regina’s chest, she discovered that the former queen had already removed it herself, and hidden it elsewhere for safekeeping.

Enraged, Zelena muttered more dire threats, and mounting her broom, crashed through the tower's tall window, escaping into the wintry night.

Emma was just thankful that Killian had offered to take Henry out on Leroy’s little fishing boat that afternoon for some father and son bonding, so they had been out of harm’s way. Upon returning to town, the pirate had been disturbed to find his beloved in pain, and was furious with himself for not having been there to protect her. His brooding expression boded ill for Zelena, and he only calmed when Emma reassured him, that while hurting, she was not badly injured.

Reunited, the little family returned to the safety of their home aboard the Jolly Roger. Henry, after a light supper, was asleep in his cabin - it had been a harrowing day for him too - and his exhausted parents soon retired to their own cabin for the night.

*****

The blonde rubbed her sore back, and grimacing, stared out the cabin window at the harbor. There were a few other boats docked nearby, and she was surprised to see that their owners had, despite the current perilous situation, decorated them with strings of Christmas lights, which sparkled reassuringly in the darkness. She thought sadly of Neal, lying dead in that lonely grave.

“You should take a shower, beloved,” Killian said, coming up behind her. “It will help loosen the muscles of your back.”

Emma turned and stared up into the pirate’s handsome face. Fear suddenly swept through her, like an icy hand clutching her soul. She would go mad if anything happened to Killian, or to their son. What if her nightmare came true? Sighing, she leaned her head against her fiancé’s chest, the steady beating of his heart offering her comfort.

“Something wrong, darling?” the pirate asked worriedly, embracing her. He was always very sensitive to Emma's moods.

“No – I’m fine,” she said, keeping her tone light. “I think I will take that shower.” And giving him a quick kiss, she disappeared into the master cabin’s bathroom, which Killian had recently created for her with his magic. While the pirate was used to the antiquated accommodations of the Jolly Roger, he was in the process of installing modern amenities throughout the ship, including another private bath – this time for Henry - as well as enlarging the lad’s quarters. The Jolly Roger was now their home, and Killian wanted to make it as comfortable as possible for his family.

The master bath was a beautiful chamber - it featured magical lighting that automatically came on when anyone entered, lending a soft, rosy glow. There was a large tiled shower, as well as an oval sink and modern flush-toilet in sparkling new dove-gray porcelain, with shiny chrome fittings. The tall wicker cabinet in the corner was filled with thick cotton towels made of luxurious Egyptian cotton, with charcoal rugs on the floor, and on the marble counter top, vials of Emma’s favorite scented soap, shampoo, and conditioner. 

Emma stripped, tossing her things onto the white tile floor, and with a sigh of relief, climbed into the shower, turning the hot water up to high. Steam soon filled the room, and for the first time that day, she started to relax. She poured shampoo into her hand, enjoying the scent of lilac, and slowly massaged it into her scalp. Rinsing, she next added conditioner, and rinsed again. It felt heavenly.

The door opened and she heard someone step quietly into the room. There was the creak of leather, and she smiled as she heard Killian’s soft brogue call out to her. “Would you care for some company in there, Swan?”

“Yeah,” Emma invited. “Come on in - the water’s fine.” She couldn’t see through the steamed-up glass of the shower door, but heard him as he moved about the room, removing his clothing and boots. There was the metallic clang of something being laid on the counter, which she knew must be his hook. A moment later, and he was beside her in the shower, his beautiful body naked and aroused.

He wrapped his long arms around her wet, slippery form, and nuzzled her throat, the water beating a gentle tattoo against their bare skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his lips trailing kisses down to her breasts, which gleamed in the dim, moist light. “I’ve missed you, today, beloved.”

Emma groaned, and reached for him. “Oh God, _Killian_ ….”

As he claimed her mouth in a searing kiss, they pressed eagerly against each other, joining in an ecstatic dance as old as time itself.

*****

Emma had fallen asleep in Killian’s arms. Tenderly, he traced the curve of her cheeks with his hand, and pressed a kiss against her damp hair. They lay beneath several thick comforters, relaxed and cozy in their bed. The pirate sent out his consciousness to test the wards he’d erected around the ship, and was pleased that they were strong, and un-breached. Zelena and her minions would not be paying them any visits this night.

Tomorrow was Christmas - a holiday largely un-familiar to Killian, but which held special significance for his loved ones. He and Emma planned a modest celebration in the morning with Henry, and later in the evening, they would visit with the rest of their extended family. Even at the darkest of times, the pirate knew that it was important to honor such traditions. It kept hope alive. This was their first Christmas together as a family – and though danger hovered like an ominous storm cloud – he would give them what joy he could. 

Through the spacious windows of their cabin, he could see the dark waters of the bay, glittering beneath the winter moon. Christmas Eve – a mystical time Killian knew, having heard many stories on his travels – a time when miracles occurred, and ghosts sometimes walked. The night was still, only the lapping of the waves against the sides of the ship, and its familiar creaking as it settled, piercing the deep silence. But wait – what was that? He listened. It sounded like a woman sobbing, somewhere in the darkness. The sound was faint, and rather hollow, as if it came from a great distance, or from a long time ago. Quietly, so as not to disturb Emma, he reached out and grabbed his hook, clicking it into place, then grasped the hilt of his cutlass, lying on the nightstand beside their berth. 

He frowned as the heart-rending cries continued. His eyes widened. It couldn’t be – the sobbing sounded _exactly_ like Emma. He turned his head, his heart thundering, and to his immense relief, saw that that his beloved still slept peacefully beside him.

What in the ten hells could this mean?

Killian stood, and quickly donned his leather trousers, which he had earlier thrown over the back of a chair. Cutlass in hand, he padded to the cabin door, and out into the hallway. The darkness seemed impenetrable. He concentrated, and a dim light winked into existence. There was nothing there, yet still the sobbing continued.

“Who are you?” he called out, keeping his voice low. “What do you want?”

There was no answer. 

The pirate slowly walked down the hall, to Henry’s cabin. Carefully, he opened the door, and peeked in. The lad was safely asleep, half buried beneath the covers. Killian smiled in relief, and closing the door, continued down the passageway, following the sound of crying.

It continued, an echoing sorrow, finally leading him up onto the main deck of the Jolly Roger. Cold and regal, the stars flickered above, an eternal uncaring presence in the night sky. There was no one on the deck, and checking his wards once again, he could find no breaks in the protection spell. 

“Show yourself!” Killian demanded. He shivered a little in the winter chill, standing half naked on the deck. The moonlight glinted on his steel hook, and along the edges of his blade.

More spectral sobbing, and then a pale vaporous cloud appeared, several feet away. He could see the outline of the ship through it. The mist started to solidify, and gradually the form of a woman emerged, the edges of her translucent body wavering like smoke, and faintly sparkling.

Killian gasped. The face of the apparition was Emma’s, and she was staring directly at him, with an expression of mingled relief and yearning. Her pale hair was twisted into a jeweled chignon, and she wore an elaborate gown made of some sort of stiff brocade, with an odd looking collar of pleated lace that stood high around her neck in a ruff. As she softly moaned his name, she extended her hand toward him, palm down, a man’s ring glittering on her third left finger. Killian recognized it at once – it was his own officer’s ring, given to him by his brother when he’d graduated from the Royal Naval Academy, so long ago.

“ _Swan_!” Killian shouted, and ran toward the figure. As he reached her, she abruptly vanished.

The baffled pirate glanced around the deck, but she was gone.

In a panic, he raced back down to their cabin, and threw open the door. Emma was sitting up in bed, her expression frightened. She pushed her long hair off her face, and stared at him.

“Are you all right, Swan?” the pirate asked, rushing to her side. He threw his cutlass to the floor, and frantically grabbed her hand. “Beloved – speak to me!”

“I – I woke up and you were gone,” she stammered. “I heard shouting. Are we being attacked? Where’s Henry?” She gripped his arm, and added, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he replied, and as he rushed from the cabin, called back over his shoulder, “I’ll check on Henry.” 

He returned in a moment, and reported that their son was safe, and amazingly, still sound asleep.

With a weary sigh, the pirate sat on the edge of their bed, running nervous fingers through his dark, tousled hair. “I heard a woman sobbing, and I followed the sound up to the main deck.”

“Someone got through the wards?” Emma asked. “I thought that wasn’t possible?”

He shook his head. “The wards are holding just fine – but yes – _something_ \- was there…” His voice trailed off. 

“What do you mean – something?”

“It was _you_ , Swan,” he replied, gazing intently at Emma. “And yet - not you. Her clothing was strange and archaic, and she just appeared on the deck, like some weird specter - I could see right through her.”

“That’s impossible!” she exclaimed. 

“Aye, so it would seem – but there she was. She called me by name – and as she did, I sensed some odd magic about her – and that she wanted my help.”

“Your – _help_? With what?”

“I don’t know, Swan – I just don’t know.”

“Could it have been Zelena or someone else masquerading as me?” Emma finally said.

“It wasn’t Zelena,” Killian replied firmly. “The wards are set up to alert me of her particular presence, whatever form she might take. I don't know what the apparition was.”

“God, could this day get any stranger,” Emma muttered. She lifted Killian’s hand to her lips, and kissed it. “I was so scared that I’d lost you – _please_ , Killian, next time, wake me, and we’ll check things out together.”

“I’m sorry, beloved – sometimes I just go into automatic action mode. Besides, you’d had a ghastly day, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You're so stubborn,” she mock-growled. “Now – please - come to bed. We can discuss all of this tomorrow. Hopefully, the excitement’s over for tonight.”

Killian peeled off his trousers, and tossed them to the floor, beside his cutlass. Climbing into bed, he gathered Emma into his arms, careful not to scratch her with his hook. “Perhaps, not quite _all_ the excitement,” he murmured, as he caught her mouth in a lingering kiss.

She gently touched his face, gazing deeply into his eyes. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

The pirate raised one dark brow.

“You’re trying to distract me from worrying.”

“Is it working, Swan?”

“Oh, _yes_...” And with a blissful sigh, she kissed him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas has arrived - and for Killian Jones and his beloved Emma, it's a day that ranges from joy to apprehension, as they join forces with the rest of their clan to try and solve a bizarre mystery, and in the process, hatch a dangerous plan to bring their enemies down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking ~ Also contains some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

Christmas – Mid Morning - The Jolly Roger

Emma opened her eyes, squinting a bit in the brilliant sunlight pouring through the windows of their cabin. She was alone in bed – Killian must have risen early, and was presumably elsewhere on the ship. Throwing back the covers, she slid out of their berth, and padded over to the huge armoire in the corner. She opened its door, glancing briefly at her nude form in the big mirror that hung on the back, and reached inside for clean clothing.

Moments later, clad in slim black jeans, an over-sized gray fisherman’s sweater, and black ankle boots, she went in search of her missing fiancé. 

As she walked down the corridor, she glanced at Henry’s cabin – his door was ajar, and his unmade bed was empty. 

Perhaps her two men folk were getting breakfast?

She quickened her pace, soon reaching the galley. The aroma of fresh coffee wafted through the open door, and inside she could see Henry, perched on a stool in front of the scarred wooden counter. He was buttering a fresh croissant, and looked up as she entered. 

“Hi Mom!” he said, grinning cheerfully. He had recently taken to calling both of his mothers “Mom”. At times it was a little confusing - especially when everyone was together - but both Emma and Regina agreed that it was very endearing. He gestured at the plate of warm croissants. “Want one?”

“Sure – they look good,” Emma replied. She snagged a croissant, and bit into it. “Mmmm…and they taste even better. Did your Dad get these at Granny’s?”

Henry nodded. “Yeah – fresh this morning – and there’s sweet butter and home made strawberry preserves too – and hot chocolate with cinnamon, and that special hazelnut coffee you like.”

“Your Dad’s been busy – I didn’t know Granny was even open today.”

“Just for a little while this morning – She told Dad she was closing early, on account of the holiday.”

“Makes sense,” Emma said, taking another bite. “And by the way - Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Mom.” While he talked, Henry was busy slathering strawberry jam onto his croissant. Taking a huge bite, he reached for his cup of hot chocolate, and peeled off the plastic lid.

“Where’s your Dad?” Emma asked.

“He’s top side. Said for us to stay below for awhile – something about a surprise he was setting up on the main deck.”

“Surprise, huh?” 

“Yep,” Henry said, blowing on his drink to cool it, then taking a sip.

Thoughtfully Emma finished her croissant. “That mine?” She pointed at the tall paper cup still on the counter. At her son’s nod, Emma removed the lid. Steam rose from the cup, and she sniffed deeply, enjoying the delicious scent. Trust Killian to provide such a yummy treat - She hadn’t had one of Granny’s hazelnut coffees since she’d left Storybrooke a year ago. With a happy sigh, she lifted the cup to her lips.

*****

Killian stared at the beautiful fir tree he’d retrieved that morning from the woods, and set up on the top deck of the Jolly Roger. He waved his hand, and instantly the tree flashed to life, thousands of colored lights sparkling on its green branches like jeweled fireflies. At its top glowed a single iridescent star - something that Emma had told him was traditional for a tree-topper. 

Pleased with the effect, the pirate smiled, and with another wave of his hand, crimson rosebuds appeared, velvety and perfectly furled, twining in long chains around the tree. He concentrated again, and masses of rose petals carpeted the entire foredeck, vibrant red in the sunlight, their rich fragrance perfuming the salt air. Emma loved red roses, and Killian was delighted to conjure some for her, a little bit of summer on this cold winter’s day. 

The tree was still alive – its roots carefully dug up and transplanted into a big terra cotta pot – because Emma hated the thought of chopping down a living thing. When Christmas was over, they would return it to the forest, and replant it.

Beneath the tree, wrapped in metallic silver paper, were the presents he and Emma had selected and hidden away for Henry – they included the electronic games and new fishing equipment the lad had been hinting for, as well as something truly special from Killian’s past. Hand carved in rosewood and mahogany, with a nautical theme, the beautiful antique chess set had originally belonged to Killian’s great-grandfather, and was one of the few family heirlooms that he possessed. It had helped him while away many tedious hours at sea, and honed his powers of concentration (which in turn, had helped him immeasurably with learning magic). The pirate knew that his son shared his love of chess, and hoped that the lad would enjoy playing with this set as much as he had.

Killian’s gift for Emma was secreted in his coat pocket - It was a gift that he felt was long over-due.

*****

Henry had ripped open his Christmas presents with glee, and to his parents’ relief, had been delighted with everything, including the chess set. He had been touched to be given such a valuable heirloom, and wanted to know all about his great-great grandfather, who had been an officer in the Royal Navy. The sea truly ran in the veins of the Jones men, and Henry was looking forward to more sailing lessons with his father, which Killian promised would soon be forth-coming.

The boy raced off toward the bow of the ship, to practice casting with his new high-end fishing rod.

“That chess set is lovely,” Emma said, watching their son with fond eyes. “You guys will have some fun times playing together. I’m glad Henry doesn’t just like electronics.” And she laughed.

The pirate flashed a grin. “Aye, it was a fine surprise to learn that our lad loves chess. Do you play, Swan?”

She shook her head. “Never tried.”

“We’ll have to remedy that,” he replied, snatching a kiss. “And thank you,” he added, gesturing at the package he had unwrapped from Emma. Nestled in gold foil and tissue paper was a new black leather vest edged at the lapels with scarlet, with a row of silver buttons down the front, and embossed all over with an entwined pattern of hooks and the buttercup insignia of Emma’s royal family. She had created the garment for Killian with her magic. “Tis beautiful, Swan - your workmanship is outstanding.” He smirked. “I guess it _is_ time that I have a little change of attire.”

Emma chuckled. “You’re welcome – but I adore you in black leather.” She glanced appreciatively at his handsome form, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “And you outdid yourself today too.” She waved a hand at the glittering Christmas tree, and the rose petals strewn in brilliant heaps on the foredeck. “These exquisite decorations, and that yummy breakfast you brought home for us - Thank you!” and leaning forward, she gave the pirate another kiss. “What time did you get up today?”

“The crack of dawn, Swan.”

“Ouch,” said Emma, never one to enjoy an early morning.

“A sailor is used to rising with the sun,” he replied. “I know Christmas is a difficult time for you, Swan, and this year has been no exception – but I’m glad that my humble efforts have offered you some measure of happiness on this day.”

“More than happy, Killian. Our family reunited is the best gift I could ever ask for – I’m just thankful we’re all together, and safe and well.”

“Aye, as am I, beloved.” He hesitated, and reaching into his pocket, brought forth a small jeweler’s box of worn black velvet. It looked incredibly old. 

“What’s this?” Emma asked, eying the box with curiosity.

“Your Christmas gift,” he replied. With a solemn expression, the pirate got down on one knee, and presented the case to her.

Emma took it in her hands, her heart beating fast.

Killian stared into her eyes, and after a long moment, said softly, “Will you marry me, Emma Swan?”

“ _Killian_ …” With a tremulous smile, she opened the box. Shining against a background of ancient cream satin was a man’s ornate platinum ring set with a large black onyx. The round stone was engraved with a tiny galleon, incredibly detailed, and nautical symbols and a royal crest were etched around the exterior of the ring’s band. When Emma turned it over, she saw that the inside revealed Killian’s initials. 

Nervously, Killian plucked the ring from the box, and slid it onto the third finger of Emma’s left hand. It fit perfectly. “Will you, Swan?”

She nodded, her eyes shining, and gracefully held up her hand, watching the ring flash and glitter in the light. Shifting her gaze to his, she exclaimed, “ _Yes_ – always yes! Just as my answer was eleven years ago.” 

The pirate grinned, and pulling Emma into a tight embrace, captured her mouth in a long, smoldering kiss.

“And I am still the happiest and most fortunate of men, Emma Swan, “ he murmured gratefully.

“This ring – it’s gorgeous – and I suspect old and very dear to you.”

“Aye, Swan – my brother Liam gave it to me when I graduated from the Royal Naval Academy.” He was silent, his mind casting back to that proud and happy day, so very long ago. “I put it away after he died, and never wore it again. But it means a lot to me – a wonderful memory of my brother, and of our life in the Royal Navy. Thanks to Cora, I was never able to give you an engagement ring.”

“I have your mother’s pendant,” Emma said, her fingers caressing the necklace, which she never took off. “As your love gift to me.”

“True, Swan – but a lady deserves a proper engagement ring. I know it’s not the usual thing, being an officer’s ring – and rather plain – I have heard that ladies in this world usually prefer diamonds? But I hope that that the ring meets with your approval.” He suddenly looked anxious. “If you don’t like it, I can always get you something else more to your choosing.”

Emma grinned, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. “I already have diamonds – my eternity necklace. I love your ring, Killian, and will wear it with pride. It’s one of a kind – a beautiful heirloom of great personal meaning to you, and therefore, more precious to me than any diamond ring could ever be.” 

She waved her hand back and forth, enjoying the sight of the ring shining on her finger. “And it fits so well - you sized it perfectly for me.”

The pirate caught her hand and pressed a fervent kiss to it. “ _Swan_ – my dearest Swan.” He was quiet for a long moment. “There’s one other thing….”

Emma tilted her head. “What’s that?”

After Killian’s disturbing experience of the night before, and having recognized his officer’s ring on the apparition’s finger, he had magically charged the actual ring with power. “I enchanted the ring to be a protective talisman tuned to you, Swan – if you’re in danger, you can activate it with a thought, and the ring will become a beacon to guide me to you, no matter where you are. You can also use it to communicate with me, and the rest of our family.”

“Thank you, Killian.” She stared at the ring. “It doesn’t appear to be magical – I mean, I can’t really sense anything different about it - that’s part of the spell, right? To keep a low profile?”

He nodded. “Aye – that way, any evil person will just ignore it, believing it to be a mere decorative ring, and nothing more. You see, if a magician imbues a talisman with too much obvious power, it leaves a sort of magical “signature” that can be traced – and we don’t want to attract any predators with this. After all, your pendant hums with power because it’s designed to open portals – at least this way, the ring will keep that “low profile” you mentioned – a sort of secret weapon. And it’s important that you be able to make contact with me and our family in an emergency.” He grinned wryly, trying to make light of his worry. “Cell phones are all well and good, Swan, but I guess, when the chips are down, I trust magic more than this world’s modern technology.”

Emma looked thoughtful. “What aren’t you telling me, Killian?”

“You know me too well, Swan,” the pirate replied, arching one dark brow. “My apologies – I didn’t want to mention it last night - not only because you were already alarmed, but for another reason that will become obvious. The specter of the weeping woman – there was something else about her that was very odd.”

“What?”

Killian gazed out at the bay, its blue waters sparkling in the December sun. “She wore a ring – a very specific ring that I recognized. In point of fact, she deliberately held out her hand to me to bring special attention to it.”

Emma gasped and held out her own hand, unconsciously mimicking the actions of the ghost woman. “ _My_ ring?”

He nodded. “Yes, Swan – your ring.”

“I can see why you didn’t want to tell me last night – it would have meant you’d have to explain about the ring, which would have ruined the surprise for today – but – frankly, it would also have freaked me out – a ghost wearing the engagement ring that you hadn’t even given me yet.” She raked her fingers through her long hair. “What the hell can it all mean, Killian?”

“I’m sorry, my darling – it does rather cast a pall over today…” His voice trailed off sadly. “After last night, I seriously considered not giving you my officer’s ring, and getting you another one instead – but after mulling it over, I came to the conclusion that my ring _is_ the one you need to have. Not just for sentimental reasons – or because it’s mine - but to protect you. Call it gut instinct. That’s why – before giving the ring to you this morning – I enchanted it.”

“Do you think this has something to do with Zelena? You know she and her minions can assume other forms. Did she somehow break through your wards last night, and pretend to be me? But how would she have known about the ring?”

“She has spies everywhere – but not here, on our ship. The wards are strong, beloved – she can’t break through them, nor can her underlings. No – I still don’t think Zelena had anything to do with the apparition, or the ring.” He stared intently at Emma. “I think it may possibly have been some sort of premonition – or a supernatural message – perhaps even a warning. I sensed the woman wanted my help, but with what, I still don’t know. The only thing I _do_ know is that a ghost looking like you and wearing your engagement ring – my old officer's ring - is no coincidence.”

Emma glanced around, as she heard Henry walking back towards them from the bow of the ship. “Don’t tell Henry – at least not yet,” she whispered. “But I do think we should tell my parents, and Regina. I just know there’s danger afoot, and I think our family will have some good input on how we should handle it.”

“Agreed, Swan – We’ll discuss it with them tonight at the family Christmas gathering at Regina’s. Perhaps after dinner, Robin could be persuaded to play a game of chess with Henry, while the rest of us confer about the situation.”

“Works for me,” Emma said sotto voce, and turning to Henry, she commented brightly, “Hey kid – Want to take a little cruise around the bay? I bet Leroy will lend us his boat again.” The dwarf had been very grateful to Killian for saving his life at the town hall meeting, and had told the pirate he was more than happy to lend him his little fishing boat whenever he asked.

Henry grinned. “Yeah – that sounds fun.” He glanced at Killian. “Do we have time for a sailing lesson today?” His eyes glowed with anticipation.

The pirate clapped their son on the shoulder. “Of course, lad – and you can show off what I’ve already taught you to your mother. The weather’s perfect for a sail.” And with a smile, he winked at Emma.

*****

Christmas Night - Regina's House

The dinner dishes had been cleared away, presents unwrapped, and bright paper and ribbon strewn around Regina’s usually immaculate living room. The lights of her pastel Christmas tree shimmered, casting a warm glow over the tired, but happy guests sprawled on the long brocade sofa and matching chairs ranged in front of the big picture windows.

Killian, clad in his new leather vest, exchanged looks with Robin Hood. The outlaw gave a slight nod, and then turned with a grin to Henry and Roland. “How would you lads like a game of chess? I hear your father presented you with a wonderful chess set, Henry – I’d love to see it, and we can give Roland here a lesson in the game.”

Henry smiled, and rummaged through his canvas backpack, sitting on the floor at his feet. “Sounds good. I brought the set with me to show everybody.” He gestured at Regina, who was deep in conversation with David and Mary Margaret. “Hey, guys,” and he carefully pulled the set, in its intricately carved wooden box, from his pack. “See what Dad gave me for Christmas!” Opening the box, he turned it towards the dark haired queen and his grandparents.

Regina looked up. “Oh, it’s beautiful, Henry – it looks very old and valuable. What a wonderful gift.” She tilted her head, and stared at the leather-clad pirate, who was seated between Henry and Emma on the end of the sofa. “I didn’t know you played chess, Hook – I mean, Killian.”

“Aye – the game of the gods. My grandfather taught me – and he gave that set to me when I was a lad not much older than Henry here. The set belonged to his father before him - It’s been in the Jones family a very long time – and now it’s Henry’s.”

“We’ll have to play a game sometime, Killian,” David said. 

“I love it’s nautical theme," Mary Margaret added. "So unusual, and the detail is amazing." With a delighted smile, she reached out and gently took one of the kings in her hands. "Look, the kings are ship captains, and the queens are mermaids - they're so intricate I can see every scale in their tails." She held up a knight. "He's a First Officer - very fitting - and he's holding a tiny telescope up to his eye. And how cool - the rooks are galleons in full sail, with little sea dragons for bishops, and the pawns - they're all sailors, each carved to be a true individual." She glanced up at Killian, her eyes warm and friendly. “It really is beautiful.”

“My ancestor hand carved it on one of his sea voyages – he was a captain in the Royal Navy, but was a talented artist in his spare time,” Killian explained, pleased that his future mother-in-law was finally welcoming him into the family. 

As Henry and Robin set up the folding board and the chess pieces on the gilt coffee table, with Roland curiously looking on, the queen rose from her seat. “Shall we all get coffee?” she said, indicating that the others should follow her to the spacious kitchen.

*****

“I don’t like the sound of this,” Mary Margaret said, her worried gaze going back and forth between her daughter and Killian. She took a little sip of mint tea. “Zelena could be targeting you guys.”

“That’s exactly my thought,” Regina agreed. “It sounds just like something my malicious sister would do.” She gestured at Emma’s ring. “But how would she have known about that? Last night, even Emma didn’t know about the ring.”

“And you say this – _apparition_ – looked just like Emma?” David cut in.

The pirate shrugged. “Aye – she did indeed. But with a decided difference.”

“And what would that be?” the prince asked, his expression grim.

“Well, she was transparent for a start – and she didn’t speak. She was communicating with me with some sort of telepathy. And her clothing was very strange – old-fashioned, and elaborate, like something royalty would wear.”

“Like the clothing in our own land?” inquired Mary Margaret.

“No – it was similar, but definitely different. What I most remember is that she had this odd high collar that went all around her throat – like some sort of wide ruff. Looked damned uncomfortable. Hell, I’m no expert on these sorts of things – hardly a pirate’s forte - but I can tell you that I'd never seen anything quite like it. And I think that’s somehow significant."

“That ruff – it sounds like something I once saw in a history book back in high school,” Emma said.

“Oh, Swan?” Killian cocked his head, staring expectantly at her.

The blonde frowned, trying to remember. Nervously, she gulped coffee from one of Regina’s elegant porcelain cups. 

“And?” Regina said impatiently.

"That particular style of collar was popular in England – the England of this world – back in the days of the Tudors, almost five hundred years ago,” Emma finally said.

“The Tudors?” Regina looked puzzled. “Who were they?”

“A royal family you definitely wouldn’t want to meet,” Emma answered. “And every bit as deadly as anything in our own world of the Enchanted Forest.”

“This discussion of ghostly fashion isn’t getting us anywhere,” the dark haired woman declared. “Bottom line – why in hell is a ghost who looks like Emma wearing her ring, and floating around the Jolly Roger? I don’t like it at all.”

“Neither do we,” Killian pointed out, and Emma nodded, grasping his hand tightly in hers. 

“Maybe it was trying to lure you away from Emma, so it could divide and conquer?” Mary Margaret suggested. “After all – all that weeping did draw you up onto the top deck.”

“But to what purpose?” David commented. He frowned, suddenly looking like he wanted something a little stronger to drink than coffee.

“That’s just it,” Regina cried in frustration. “We don’t know.”

“She wanted something,” Killian insisted.

“She wanted _you_ ,” Emma said, gazing intently at her fiancé.

“How do you know that, Swan?”

“I just do,” she replied. 

Regina started pacing around the kitchen, coffee cup in hand. Every so often, she stopped, and took a nervous sip. “I think my sister’s at the bottom of this. She’s got all sorts of weird issues to do with me, and our mother.” Her eyes suddenly lit up. “That’s it! We need to ask my mother – maybe she can tell us what Zelena is really up to.”

At the mention of Cora, everyone else in the room looked alarmed.

“She’s dead, Regina,” Mary Margaret finally ventured in a timid voice.

"Don’t you think I’m well aware of that?” Regina responded acidly. While the queen was genuinely happy to finally be an accepted member of the royal family, she still harbored some understandable resentment that Mary Margaret had been the cause of Cora’s demise. Although, she had to admit, her mother had certainly had it coming. “Anyway - we _can_ contact her - by holding a séance.”

“A séance?” Killian muttered. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Hell no!” Emma echoed. “No offense, Regina, but the last person Killian and I ever want to see is your mother. She’s the one who cursed us eleven years ago – remember?”

The queen turned and stared at Emma. “And I’m sorry for that. But it may be our only chance to get to the root of things, and put a stop to Zelena. Isn't that worth the risk?”

Everyone was silent, taking sips of his or her drink as their minds turned over the unpleasant thought of again encountering the dark sorceress.

Killian suspected that even as a spirit, Cora would be formidable. She had been deadly as a person, and horrendous in harpy form. No, the more he thought about this, the worse it sounded. “What exactly is it, Regina, that you think your mum can tell us?”

The queen took another sip of her coffee. “Well - she can tell us who Zelena’s father is – and why she abandoned her as an infant. That might shed a little light on Zelena's motivation.” She stopped pacing, and leaned against the kitchen counter. “My dear sister has been keeping pretty close-lipped about her plans to implement her vengeance. I’m not even sure why she wants to get even with me so badly - It’s not like I had an ideal life or anything.” She smiled bitterly. “For that matter, Zelena seems to be holding a grudge against all of us.”

David spoke up. “How safe is your home, Regina? Do you think your sister could spy on us here, and overhear our conversation? Or even worse – crash our little get-together?”

“I set up the same kind of wards here as Killian did on the Jolly Roger,” the queen said. “So, no – she’s not going to come calling any time soon, or be able to eavesdrop.”

“Well – that’s a relief,” Mary Margaret said. “I sure as hell don’t want that bitch anyway near any of us – or my baby.” And she laid a protective hand over her belly.

Killian set down his cup. “What makes you think that your mum will tell us what we want to know?” He waved his hook in Regina’s direction. “It’s not like she’s the compassionate sort – she never was very cooperative when it came to helping anyone other than herself. Look how abominably she treated you, Regina – and you’re her daughter.”

“Point taken,” Regina agreed reluctantly. “But what choice do we have? In case you hadn’t noticed, things are getting pretty desperate around Storybrooke. And don’t forget – Zelena has Rumple under her control – there’s no telling what she can do with that sort of magical fire power at her disposal.”

“No – not likely to forget Rumple,” Emma said, recalling his attack on her the night before. “And unless we can get that dagger away from Zelena, he’ll remain under her control – and a danger to us all.”

“Even Belle wasn’t able to get through to him – not once Zelena showed up and waved that cursed weapon in his face,” David put in. He was definitely looking strained. “So – when do we conduct this – séance?”

“Tomorrow night,” Regina answered. “We don’t have any time to waste.”

“Okay,” Emma said slowly. “I guess I’m in – although, to be blunt, I hate the thought of seeing your mother again.”

Killian was silent for a moment before giving his assent. “I stand with Swan. But I really do detest your mother - No offense meant to you, Regina.”

“None taken.”

David and Mary Margaret sighed, almost in unison. “This séance sounds very scary – hell, Cora _is_ scary incarnate – but yeah, count us in,” David said, and Mary Margaret nodded glumly. She was terrified for all of them - Even Regina might not be safe with the mad woman that was Cora. And Mary Margaret seriously doubted that a sojourn in the afterlife had done much to mellow the sorceress - she thought it highly likely that she was holding a particularly nasty grudge against her. She just prayed that a spirit wouldn’t be able to enact revenge.

From the living room, they could hear happy voices and laughter. “I think we’re all in agreement to not tell Henry about this,” Killian said.

They all nodded. 

“I’ll fill in Robin on our discussion later tonight - and I'll ask him to keep an eye on Henry,” Regina said. “We need privacy for the séance – so, if it’s okay with you and Emma, I prefer that Henry spend tomorrow night at Robin’s camp. Robin and his men will protect him, and Henry can hang out with Roland and play electronic games. He’ll be safe there – I've erected wards around Robin’s, so it should be fine.”

“Well, then...” Emma smiled crookedly. “What exactly does one _do_ at a séance?”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina holds an arcane ritual at her home, with devastating results. Can Killian and Emma survive the night, and the treachery of a old and deadly foe?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking ~ Also contains some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

The Night After 

“You’re being awfully quiet,” Emma remarked, as she steered the yellow Volkswagen around another turn.

Killian was staring out the car window, his expression brooding. It had started to snow. House lights and illuminated Christmas decorations glittered in the darkness, as the VW sped past, and down the road. But their welcoming glow failed to bring the pirate any cheer. He turned towards Emma, and smiled faintly. “Sorry, Swan – just thinking.”

“Judging by the look on your face, you must be thinking of something pretty depressing,” she replied.

“Aye – this damned séance we’re headed to. I’ve got a very bad feeling about it.”

“I don’t blame you – Cora is certainly the last person I’d pick as a candidate for a chat from the great beyond. But like Regina said last night – it’s worth the risk.”

“Is it?” Killian said. “Nothing is worth the risk of losing you, Swan. Cora was always selfish and cruel – and she hated us all – I doubt that her current status as a spirit will change that. Nothing good can come of this séance.”

“And yet you agreed to it,” Emma pointed out.

“True - but only because you did. If you insist upon participating in such a dangerous event, then I’m going to be there by your side, magic and weapons at the ready.”

She reached out, and gently squeezed the pirate’s shoulder. “Thanks, sweetheart – it’s good to know you’ve got my back.”

“Always, beloved.”

****

The queen ushered her guests into the back study. It was a cozy room, with subdued track lighting, and tall bookshelves. A few tasteful landscapes, framed in bronze, hung on the walls, their colors vibrant against the moss green silk wallpaper. Dominating the center of the room was a round mahogany table and five matching chairs. On the table’s polished top was a white pillar candle in a glass holder, and a book of matches.

David pulled a chair out for Mary Margaret, and his wife slid gratefully onto the tapestry seat. Understandably frightened at the thought of the séance, she also felt exhausted, and her back and feet ached. Gently she ran her fingers over her distended belly, trying to calm herself.

Her concerned husband sat down next to her, and took one of her hands in his. She glanced up, and smiled at him, although her eyes still looked wary.

“So – Everybody ready?” Regina asked, as the pirate and Emma took their seats.

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Emma said, with a nervous little laugh. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

The queen nodded, and lit the candle. It flared to life, and she quickly shook out the match, before it could singe her fingers. With an air of determination, she moved to the wall by the door, and switched off the track lights.

The room was eerie in the darkness, the sputtering candle casting odd reflections over everyone’s faces.

“Does it have to be so dark?” Mary Margaret asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Regina answered. “Light interferes with the vibrations.” She took her own seat. “Now, everybody, please join hands – and whatever you do, don’t break the circle, or leave the table – if you do, it might sever any connection we make with the other side – and that could be dangerous.”

“I knew it,” Killian muttered under his breath. 

They all joined hands, Emma wrapping hers around Killian’s left wrist, just below his hook, her other hand taking her father’s.

“What now?” David said.

“Sit quietly and concentrate on the image of Cora, while I attempt to open a connection with her,” the queen responded. 

“How are you going to do that?” Mary Margaret cut in.

“I’ll send some of my magical energy into the void – it will open the connection, while I call to her. Now, please, Snow – let me start.” Regina’s brow creased in concentration, and a bolt of brilliant purple light snaked into the darkness, illuminating the room for a moment, before it slowly faded from view. There was the smell of ozone. The queen took a deep breath. “Mother – Mother, are you there? Can you hear us? Mother, please give us a sign – We need your help.”

Silence. 

“Mother – _please_ – I need you. My sister Zelena is here, and she’s vowed to destroy me, and everyone in Storybrooke. Please – Come to us - We need your help!”

They all stared at each other, their hands anxiously clasping their neighbor’s. Mary Margaret opened her mouth to say something, but hurriedly closed it, as Regina shot her a look of warning.

Killian looked grim. No good would come of inviting Cora back into the world of the living.

“Please, Mother – I know things haven’t been the best between us, or between you and the others here,” Regina pleaded. “But please, put all that aside - we need your help. Come to us!”

The temperature of the room fell. Killian glanced over at Emma, his expression worried, as everyone’s breath frosted in the suddenly frigid air.

Emma gasped as a cloud of vapor started to materialize in the far corner of the room. 

All eyes stared in horror as the vapor slowly coalesced into the translucent form of a woman. She was pale and shimmering, as if lit from within, and clad in a long, filmy cloak. It was Cora – but not the Cora they all remembered. Her face, beneath the cloak’s hood, was young and beautiful, but contorted with an expression of pure evil. Her eyes radiated malice.

Mary Margaret screamed as the apparition swiveled its head, and stared directly at her. She started to pull away from the hands holding hers.

“No! Don’t break the circle!” Regina shouted, tightening her grasp on the other woman’s hand.

Desperately, the queen faced the spirit. “Mother – Please – What happened between you and Zelena? We need to know!”

Cora tilted her head, and laughed soundlessly. It was a disturbing sight. She waved a transparent hand, and suddenly everyone in the room was bombarded with visions of the past, vivid as life, each shifting rapidly, from one to the other.

_It was a tale oft told – a young and naïve maiden, seduced and abandoned by a handsome liar, becomes pregnant with his child. But there is a twist, and a kindly prince rescues the maiden. Already betrothed, the prince falls in love with the damsel in distress, and soon proposes marriage. Afraid to lose her royal fiancé, the girl conceals her condition, only to be blackmailed by her former lover, and eventually betrayed by the jealous princess who was originally the prince’s betrothed._

_Spurned by the prince, and driven in disgrace from the palace, the girl gives birth to her child, whom she soon abandons in the woods. The child – Zelena - is sucked into an immense and terrifying green portal, and into another world._

As the visions disappeared, everyone stared in amazement at each other, and at the horrifying specter, which was drawing nearer with every moment.

With a howl of rage, Cora suddenly loomed over Mary Margaret, who finally jerked her hand loose from Regina's, and stood, stumbling away from the circle.

David jumped to his feet, toppling his chair. He grabbed his wife, and thrusting her protectively behind him, yelled, “Stay away!” 

As Cora reached out for the prince and princess, Regina tossed a fireball of crackling energy towards her mother. The magic struck Cora, and she reared back, eyes incandescent with rage. She thrust forth her hand, and Regina was smashed backwards, against the wall. 

The dark sorceress turned toward David and Mary Margaret, preparing to strike again.

“You fucking bitch!” Emma shouted, and she stood. Raw magic suddenly exploded from her hands, enveloping Cora in a blinding halo of light. 

The apparition shrieked, and as the light faded away, charged her attacker.

“Swan!” Killian warned, and darting in front of Emma, raised his steel hook, and aimed it at Cora. An arc of white light flashed out towards the sorceress, hitting her squarely in the chest.

Propelled backwards by Killian's magic, Cora screamed in agony. 

“You’ll pay for that, pirate,” she snarled, and with a fiendish grin, gestured at Killian.

Seized by invisible hands, he was tossed high into the air, and then brutally thrown to the floor, where he landed in a crumpled heap. 

Crying Killian’s name, Emma rushed to his side. She crouched down, frantically attempting to rouse him, but the pirate didn't respond. Eyes tightly closed, his face ashen, he lay on his back, unmoving. It was her nightmare all over again. She began to sob.

There was the sound of arrogant laughter. Emma glanced up to see Cora floating above her head, her lips twisted in a gloating smile. “Ah, pretty girl – all upset over your precious pirate?” 

Glaring, Emma reached deep inside herself, for her most hidden reserves of magic. A ball of sparkling light instantly formed in her hands, and with a scream of rage, she threw it straight at Cora.

The sorceress cried out, her voice piercing as a blade.

Suddenly the candle on the table flickered, and went out, plunging the room into total darkness. Everyone started to yell.

A whirling portal erupted over the chaotic scene, framing Cora’s sneering face in pulsating gray-white light. There was a confusing blur of motion as she reached down into the room, and viciously seized a struggling form, dragging it into the portal's glistening maw. 

As the portal snapped shut, Cora's smug laughter echoed throughout the room.

A loud click, and the track lights flickered on. David’s arms were wrapped tightly around his terrified wife, and Regina had staggered upright, her hand on the light switch.

Killian, who had been knocked momentarily unconscious, had awakened in time to see the portal closing. His first thought was of Emma. “Swan?” Grimacing with pain, the pirate sat upright, and wildly glanced about.

Emma Swan was gone. All that remained was her eternity necklace, which glittered on the floor, its chain broken.

With numb fingers, Killian picked up the necklace, and struggled to his feet. He stared bleakly at the place where the portal had once hovered, but there was nothing to be seen but the bare white ceiling.

The others, suddenly comprehending that one of their own was missing, watched in dawning horror. Mary Margaret started to cry, and David and Regina exchanged appalled glances, their own eyes moist.

“ _Swan_!” the pirate shouted. Tears streamed down his face, and he stood, lost and despairing, his eyes still focused upward. “I will find you, beloved, I swear – Wherever she has taken you – I will find you, and bring you home!”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma awakens in a strange realm - while a heartbroken and grimly determined Killian decides upon a dangerous plan to bring his beloved safely home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking ~ Also contains some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

Emma slowly opened her eyes. Her head and stomach ached, and she felt dizzy and disoriented. Painfully she sat up, and taking a deep breath, glanced around.

Where the hell was she?

The room was dimly lit, and opulent, sparkling with too much gold. It was everywhere – encrusting woodwork, tapestries, and furniture, and most especially, gilding the enormous platform bed, hung with red velvet draperies, that loomed in the far corner. A fire burned in the great stone fireplace that dominated the opposite wall, and the marble floor on which she sat was strewn with dried, sweet-smelling rushes. 

She staggered to her feet, swaying a bit. Gazing down, she was shocked to see that her own clothing (along with her pistol) had been removed by someone, and that she was now attired in a long brocade gown, stiff with metallic embroidery, underneath which she could feel several petticoats, and a cumbersome wire under-garment that felt like a cage, and was just as restrictive. Around her throat was a high linen and lace ruff that scratched her skin when she turned her head. Lifting the gown’s heavy skirts, she stared at the unfamiliar scarlet leather and wood shoes encasing her feet.

With a sinking heart, Emma realized that this peculiar costume was horribly familiar, exactly matching Killian’s description of the ghost woman’s attire. 

She had to get out of here! Instinctively, she felt for the eternity necklace. It was gone - and with it, any chance of opening a portal for escape from this strange realm that Cora had pulled her into.

Kicking off the uncomfortable shoes, Emma padded across the room and tried the huge, intricately carved oak door, rattling its golden handle several times. The damn thing was locked.

Suddenly Emma remembered her engagement ring – and the protection spell that Killian had placed upon it. She stretched out her left hand, and to her immense relief, the ring still glittered on her third finger. Closing her eyes, she concentrated, envisioning the handsome face of her beloved, as she sent her magic winging through the realms to him.

As she activated the ring’s spell, the door to the room started to open.

*****

Storybrooke - Early Morning

Killian strode around the lake, the overcast weather of the morning perfectly mirroring his gloomy thoughts. 

“We’ll find a way,” David said, his long strides keeping pace with the pirate’s. The two men had come to the park in order to clear their heads, the hike in the brisk winter air helping them to cope with the stress of Emma's disappearance.

Killian reached into the inner pocket of his leather vest – the one that Emma had made him for Christmas – and tightly wrapped his fingers around the eternity necklace that he’d placed there for safekeeping. “If she still had her pendant, she could have just opened a portal and returned to me – but Cora obviously tore it off to prevent that. Damn the woman to all the seven hells!”

“Can’t you use the necklace to open a portal at our end?”

“Aye – but in order to create a portal, I need to know exactly what realm or dimension to connect to – and at the moment, we have no idea where Cora has taken Emma.”

“What about the engagement ring you gave her? Didn’t you be-spell it to act as a beacon and communication device in an emergency? And if this isn’t an emergency, I don’t know what the hell is.”

The pirate nodded. “The ring is linked to both Emma and I, but in order to work, Emma needs to trigger the spell on her end. I just hope to all the gods that it’s still safely on her finger – and that Cora hasn’t harmed her.” Killian’s hand went to his cutlass. “If that bitch has harmed Swan in any way, I won’t rest until I make her pay.”

“Killian – have faith,” the prince said. “We'll find Emma, and bring her home. Regina and Snow are working on locator spells – and they’ve asked Belle to help too – She’s combing through Rumple’s library, searching for anything that might be of help.”

“Thanks, mate, I appreciate the good thoughts, and everyone’s help. I know this is all just as hard on you and Snow as it is on me – but when I think of what Swan must be going through...” Killian's voice trailed off in despair.

Suddenly the pirate cried out in agony, and clutched his head.

“What’s wrong?” 

“It’s Swan!” Killian exclaimed. He grimaced, his eyes narrowed against the pain. “But there’s something working against the magic, trying to block it. Whatever is generating the counter-spell, it’s incredibly strong – and it’s using pain to block me - I feel as if my head is going to split right open. Swan's voice is so faint, I can barely hear her – but she’s alive!”

“Where? Where is she, Killian?” David asked.

The pirate faced him. “It’s not just where – it’s also _when_.”

“What do you mean?”

Killian shook his head, trying to clear away the negative magic that was attacking him across the realms. “Swan’s here – in this world – but she’s been dragged back to its past. And to reach her, we’ll need something a hell of a lot more powerful than a portal.”

David’s eyes widened. “I didn’t think time travel was possible?”

The pirate’s expression was grim. “Obviously Cora – or whoever she’s working for – was able to create a doorway into the past. And we’re going to do the same bloody thing.”

“But how?”

“Long ago, I saved the life of a Tibetan wise man who was visiting our realm. In gratitude, he gave me an ancient scroll of rare magic. At the time, I merely found it an interesting curiosity, and stowed it away in my library on the Jolly Roger. It’s still there, buried amongst my papers and books. The incantation written on the scroll can be used only once – it will provide just enough magical power to enable one person to go back through time, and return home. After that, the barrier between our timelines will be forever closed.” The pirate's blue eyes glinted with determination. “The person going back through time is going to be me.”

Killian turned off the path, and started to run toward the parking lot, and David’s truck. “Come on, mate – We have no time to lose!” The irony of this last comment was not lost on him.

The prince hurried to keep up. “But if only one person can transverse the barrier – it’s not going to work! There won’t be enough power to return both you and Emma to our time.”

Killian didn't answer. He halted at the truck, and watched impatiently as David unlocked the vehicle, and slid behind the wheel. Quickly, the pirate climbed into the other side of the cab, and slamming the door, turned towards the prince. “Don’t worry, the spell will work – Emma is coming home.”

As realization dawned, David stared at him, aghast. “You’re not planning to come back with her – are you?”

“I’ll go back in time, but it will be Swan who returns - One in, and one out. That’s the way these sorts of spells are set up.”

“Emma will never agree to it,” David said. “She’ll refuse to go back, if it means leaving you behind.”

Killian smiled sadly. “You’re right, of course. But she won’t know, because I’m not going to tell her. And if I have to, I’ll shove her right through that damned barrier, and back home to all of you."

The prince shook his head. “Losing you will kill her.”

“Losing her would most certainly kill me – but Swan is strong, and she’ll live, for Henry’s sake. If I die, or am lost forever in time, so be it. But I will _not_ leave my beloved in the past to be tortured or killed by Cora, and whatever evil she's aligned with. Nor will I leave our son without his mother. I’ll do whatever I have to do to save Emma, and protect Henry – no matter the cost to me.”

“There must be some other way,” David protested. “Perhaps Regina working with Snow, and the rest of us can raise enough magic to bring you both back through?”

“No - You'll need every bit of power to fight Zelena and Rumple," Killian replied. "So while I truly do appreciate the sentiment, you mustn’t drain yourselves on my account. There's an entire town at risk, and saving it is far more important than one man."

“Emma will be heartbroken - and she'll never forgive you for sacrificing yourself.” David sighed heavily. “Hell, she’ll never forgive us for letting you. And I know what Snow will say – and she’ll be right - that Emma should be the one to decide her own fate – even if it means not coming home to us.”

“Aye,” Killian agreed. "But I love Swan too much to let her risk her life for me – and that is why on this occasion - although it pains me greatly - I will, if necessary, lie to her. She must return safely to this time - for her own sake, and for Henry’s.” He stared intently at David. “Promise me – when Swan comes home – that you’ll explain it all to her, and to Henry - so that they'll both understand why I did what I did, and perhaps, eventually, they'll forgive me.”

David laid his hand on the pirate's shoulder, his eyes suspiciously bright. “I’ll tell them, Killian – but I just pray that somehow, someway, you’ll come back with Emma, and can tell her and Henry this story yourself.”

“Always the optimist, eh, mate?” Killian said. He raised one dark brow, and flashed a grin, with something of his old devil-may-care élan. “Well – who knows – maybe some of that optimism will work miracles in the end. Now, let’s get back to the Jolly Roger – We have a scroll to retrieve.” 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Killian and the others study the ancient scroll, desperately trying to unlock its secrets, Emma encounters unexpected dangers in a long ago realm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking ~ Also contains some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

England – 1559

As they entered the room, they heard someone muttering what sounded like an incantation. The tall young man in the black velvet robe flung out his hand, and with a flash of light, sent Emma Swan crashing backwards against the wall, knocking her unconscious.

He turned to his female companion, concern shadowing his handsome, bearded features. “Are you all right, Your Majesty?”

The woman tilted her head, and smiled up at him. “Quite all right, John – and thank you for stopping the witch from attacking us.” In her mid-twenties, she was attractive, with brilliant red hair sparkling with jewels, and intense dark eyes that seemed to glow in her pale oval face. “But perhaps you should make sure that she’s still alive – after all, we can’t very well question a corpse, now, can we?”

Doctor John Dee nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty.” Quickly crossing the chamber, he bent down, and taking one of Emma’s hands in his, felt her wrist for her pulse. It was strong and steady. “My magic has knocked the witch unconscious, and she’ll have a devil of a headache when she awakens, but she’s alive.” Gently he picked the blonde up in his arms, and carried her to the immense bed. Setting her down on the velvet counterpane, he added, “She’ll awaken soon, and then we can question her.” 

“Excellent,” the Queen replied. She stared avidly at Emma, the expression in her eyes strangely gloating. “Yes indeed, it will be most _interesting_ to converse with her.” She chuckled shrilly, the sound rather disconcerting.

Dee sent a troubled glance towards his young Queen - the woman whom he secretly adored, and had enshrined in his innermost heart. 

Elizabeth had not been herself these last few days. She seemed somehow different, but he couldn’t quite put his finger upon it. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn that she was already acquainted with this woman – but, of course, that was impossible. He cast his mind back to the day before, when the mysterious blonde had appeared.

The sound of thunder, and the throne room was enveloped in a blinding glare, which moments later faded away to reveal the unconscious form of a woman, sprawled before the dais of Elizabeth’s throne, as if flung there from the heavens (or more likely, from the nether regions). She was clad in outlandish raiment - a cloak-like garment and woolen tunic, with breeches and tall boots that were similar to male riding attire.

At the sight of the stranger, the Queen laughed wildly, and ordered the guards to take her away to the palace dungeons, only to immediately change tack, and instead degree the woman be locked in one of the royal bedchambers for safe keeping. With a languid wave of her hand, she next directed her ladies to change the woman’s clothing to something more “suitable”, and asked Dee to check her for weapons.

The doctor bowed, and after a brief search of the stranger, discovered a strange metal device in one of her pockets, obviously some sort of weapon. Fascinated, Dee ran his fingers over the cold steel of the device, intending to study it later, in the privacy of his laboratory - but to his great surprise, the Queen demanded he turn it over to her.

Standing, he walked back to his liege, and carefully placed the weapon in her slim beautiful hands, politely cautioning her to be careful, as it looked deadly. He was startled to see the icy gaze Elizabeth directed toward him, almost that of a stranger. It was totally different from the fond glances that she usually bestowed upon him.

The Queen smiled oddly, as if harboring some delicious secret, and declared the stranger to be a witch, and a danger to the realm.

Privately, Dee had his doubts that the stranger was anything of the sort, but he said nothing, although it was certainly conceivable the woman might present some sort of danger. If so, he would act swiftly to prevent any harm from befalling his beloved monarch, and England.

Elizabeth’s voice interrupted his reverie. “Well, John – she’s starting to come around – time to get down to business.”

*****

Storybrooke - Mary Margaret and David's Home

“This is just crazy!” Mary Margaret declared. “We can’t let you do that, Hook – I mean, Killian.” She was pacing back and forth, her brows knit in a fierce frown, and in that moment, she reminded the pirate strongly of her daughter. “No, we simply can’t allow you to just throw your life away with this spell, and stay in some long-ago time line. There has got to be another way.” 

The princess turned towards Regina. “Isn’t there something you can do?”

Regina gestured vaguely. “I’m not sure – this type of magic is complicated, I’ve never encountered anything like it before – It might be possible – but I’d need to research things, and that takes time.”

“Which is exactly what we don’t have,” Killian cut in. “Every moment we delay, is a risk for Swan. Remember – it’s Cora who has captured her.” His expression was grim. “You, of all people, Regina, know exactly what that means.”

The queen nodded. “You’re right, of course.” She felt terrible that the séance that had started it all had been her idea. She started to pace, right along with Mary Margaret. “But how do you know this scroll will even work? Neither Belle nor I could find anything to help, and I've never heard of a time travel spell that worked – it would defy the very laws of magic.”

“For the magic of our realm, perhaps,” Killian conceded. “But the magic of the scroll is from _this_ world, and thus adheres to totally different rules.”

“I thought that this is a land without magic?” David said. He was leaning against the counter, nervously sipping coffee from a pottery mug.

“Mostly that appears to be true,” the pirate replied. He stood at the kitchen table, staring down at the ancient parchment he had retrieved from the Jolly Roger. “But the man who gave me this scroll said that there _is_ magic here, very ancient, and found only in certain sacred places scattered throughout this world – places of great power and mystery. He was a holy man from Tibet, who had crossed into our realm. He told me that the scroll came from Shangri-La – an esoteric kingdom located in a secret valley, somewhere in the Himalayas.”

“This is so bizarre,” Regina muttered.

“You think?” Killian said. One eyebrow rose.

Belle laid down her mug, and shook her head. "I searched through Rumple's library, and I found all sorts of magical references, but I saw nothing that mentions anything like this scroll, or the land it came from." Shrugging, she added, "I'll keep looking, though - there's an awful lot of material to go through."

"I appreciate all of your hard work, Belle," Killian said. "But I'm not surprised that you found nothing about Shangri-La - it's a place that keeps itself, and its knowledge, well hidden." 

“I still don’t like it,” Mary Margaret exclaimed. She stopped pacing and turned towards the pirate. “You’re part of our family now – Emma and Henry love you – you’re his father. How do you think they’ll feel to know you sacrificed your life – because that’s what it amounts to – Forever separated from them, lost in some strange, long ago time line, with no way of ever coming back. And you say that, if necessary, you won't tell her about the scroll's one-person exit clause?”

Killian looked crestfallen. “I swore I’d never lie to Swan – and it's not something I look forward to doing - but what choice do I have? You know she won’t come back without me.”

“Emma will know right away that’s something’s up,” Mary Margaret retorted. “But frankly, when the time comes, I think you'll tell her the truth - You love her too much to take the choice away from her.” She glanced toward David, smiling lovingly at him. “My husband attempted the same thing once, if you remember – and it didn’t work with me. If I'd had to, I’d have stayed forever with him in Neverland – and Emma is the same. She will not leave you behind, Killian, any more than you’d ever leave her.”

Killian’s hand went to the eternity necklace, nestled at the bottom of his coat pocket. “I would die before I would abandon Swan.”

“I know,” Mary Margaret said.

David set down his mug, and crossed the room to his wife. Gently, he put his arm around her, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s true,” he said, looking intently over at Killian. “You and Emma love each other – and while it pains us both to think of losing our daughter – you two belong together – whatever world or time you find yourselves in.”

The pirate nodded bleakly. “Without Swan, I am truly lost.”

Belle knew exactly how he felt, and sympathized, as her own heart was breaking at the loss of Rumplestiltskin, still held captive by Zelena. 

Robin Hood, who had been quietly listening to the conversation, suddenly spoke. “I’d be tempted to do the same thing, were I in your shoes, Killian.”

Startled, Regina turned to her lover. “You’d lie to me, Robin?”

Robin drew the dark haired queen into his embrace. “To save your life, I’d try,” he answered. “But we both know it wouldn’t work.”

She smiled, and laid her head against the outlaw’s shoulder. “Damned right.” With a sigh, she directed her next comment to Killian. “I don’t want to be the one to have to explain to Henry why you and Emma didn’t come home. Use those pirate wits of yours, and some of that magic I taught you – and figure out a way around that damned clause.”

They all turned expectant gazes on the pirate.

He ignored them, and for several minutes, the room was oddly silent, the only sound the restless tapping of his fingers against the wood of the table, as he studied the scroll.

The others glanced at each other, puzzled. A few more moments passed.

Finally Killian looked up. His blue eyes held a triumphant glint. “I think I’ve found a way.” 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma is marooned in Elizabethan England - and Killian will stop at nothing to safely bring her home. Invoking the scroll's ancient magic, he opens a portal in the very fabric of existence - and begins a dangerous journey back through time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking ~ Also contains some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

Storybrooke – Mary Margaret and David’s Flat

Henry was pacing restlessly around the kitchen. What was it, Killian thought, slightly bemused, about his family and pacing? They all seemed to do it when upset.

“You’re bringing Mom back, right?” the boy asked, turning to face his leather-clad father.

“Aye, Henry – I will not rest until your mother is safely back home again.”

“What about you?”

Damn, the lad was sharp. “I fully intend to return with Swan,” he answered truthfully. No point in mentioning that Killian wasn’t completely sure yet that his wild scheme to bring both himself and Emma home would really work.

“That’s good,” Henry replied. He walked over to Killian, and gave him a fierce hug. “Just remember, I love you, Dad.”

The pirate smiled, and returned the hug. “I love you too, Henry.” He felt a lump rising in his throat. “Try not to worry. Your grandparents, and Regina and Robin will keep you safe while I’m gone.” He glanced quickly around the room, seeing the same concern written on the faces of the adults, as he saw on his son’s. They were all there: Regina and Robin Hood, David and Mary Margaret, and Belle. He could feel their combined nervous energy as a palatable presence, thrumming against his nerves. Gently Killian said, “But now, lad, ‘tis time for us to ready the spell. Swan and I will see you when we return.”

He nodded at Regina, who was seated at the table, a cup of steaming apple tea cradled in her hands. The fragrant scent wafted through the room, reminiscent of peaceful fall mornings. The queen glanced up at Killian, her expression tense. She knew what Killian planned was beyond dangerous.

“Be careful, Dad,” Henry said. “Please.”

“Aye, lad – I’ll do my best,” Killian promised. And that, he thought, is all anyone could ever do.

****

London – 1559

Emma stared at the red headed young woman in the elaborate gown, and frowned. She knew who she was – had, in fact, recognized her right away, having seen her portraits in all of those history books she’d read back in high school. And yet, there was something else strangely familiar about the woman – something that caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise.

“I already told you – I’m not a witch,” Emma said, trying to keep the annoyance from her voice.

Elizabeth cocked her head, gazing back at the blonde. Her dark eyes were as cold as ice. “So you say.”

“Then pray, what exactly are you?” interjected the tall man standing beside the Queen. Regal in his black magician’s robes, his brilliant brown eyes - just as piercing as Elizabeth's, but far warmer - bored into Emma’s.

“I’m just a normal woman,” Emma explained. “But I come from another time, and another realm.”

“Another time, you say?” One of the man's dark brows shot up in frank disbelief. “And what is your name?”

Oddly, Emma was suddenly reminded of Killian. There was a definite resemblance between this man and her pirate. Both were tall, and darkly handsome, with similar chiseled features, and a commanding air. She also sensed an underlying kindness in him, something that seemed to be lacking in his Queen. “My name is Emma Swan,” she replied. “And I come from almost five hundred years in the future.”

The man exchanged a skeptical glance with Elizabeth. “And what is this realm, and your place in it?”

Emma was silent for a moment, considering her options. “My – um – realm is called Storybrooke, and my “place” as you put it, is that of princess. My parents are – um – the rulers of our little kingdom.” Her eyes met his, with what she hoped was a suitably guileless expression. “Where am I? And – since we’re making introductions – who are the two of you?”

Turning to his companion, he gestured with a long, elegant hand. “You are addressing Her Royal Highness Elizabeth, Queen of England – and I am her personal adviser and philosopher, Doctor John Dee - at your service, Milady.”

Elizabeth sniffed.

“You’re of royal lineage?” Dee continued, addressing his comment to Emma. “In that case, Your Highness, my apologies for our rather rude welcome to you. We are not used to the royalty of other lands just – ah - dropping into our kingdom on such short notice.” He flashed a grin, looking even more like Killian Jones, and gave a little bow. “I am puzzled, though, at how you arrived here.”

Instinctively, Emma knew she shouldn’t mention the séance – to people of this era, such things would definitely smack of witchcraft – and she suspected was most likely a burning offense. “Something pulled me from my time, into yours.” Probably shouldn’t mention Cora either. “I’m not sure what, though. Our kingdom has been – um – under siege lately from hostile forces.”

“That’s quite a story you’ve concocted,” the redhead murmured nastily.

“While skepticism is always wise, Your Majesty – I believe Princess Emma is not a witch, and that she is telling us the truth,” Dee countered. “I have heard tales of such things from learned men on the continent – of travels between worlds, and passage through time. And you must admit – her arrival at court was rather unconventional, to say the least.”

“Indeed?” The Queen looked amused. “Whether our “royal” visitor is witch, or time traveler – the question is - what are we going to do with her?”

“Detain her for now,” Dee answered, thoughtfully stroking his trim beard. “Until we can get to the bottom of this.”

“Very well,” Elizabeth said. Once again, she cocked her head to one side, and stared coldly at Emma, who was reminded of a predatory bird sizing up a potential meal. “I wonder – allow her to stay here, in the warmth and comfort of the palace chambers – or perhaps the dungeon, after all?”

Dee looked shocked. “Your Majesty, the dungeon is no place for a visiting princess. She obviously needs our help to return home. I should think it would be safe enough to let the lady have free rein to move about the palace, as long as she gives her word to cause no trouble, and we keep an eye on her. I don’t believe she’s dangerous.” 

“I’m definitely no danger to you or your people – Your – um – Majesty,” Emma put in hastily. “I’m as baffled as both of you are about my being here. All I want is to return home – to my own time.”

The Queen was silent for a long moment, considering. “Well, perhaps the dungeon would be overkill – at the moment, anyway.” One side of her mouth quirked sardonically. “Very well, Dee, take care of things.” And she swept from the room, her long velvet skirts dragging on the marble floor. The enormous door crashed shut behind her.

Emma and Dee stared at each other. The magician had a disturbed expression on his face. 

“Is she always that – um – abrupt?” Emma asked.

Dee shook his head. “Her Majesty has not been herself the last few days.”

“Oh?”

He found himself wanting to confide in this mysterious young woman. Strangely, he felt he could trust her. “My Queen is usually the most gracious and regal of monarchs, witty and learned, skilled at diplomacy, full of lively curiosity about the world, interested in everything and everyone. She is often very merry, loving the arts – especially the theatre and the dance – and devoted to England.”

Yep, that sounds like the young Elizabeth I read about in school, Emma thought to herself. 

“But lately,” Dee continued. “Her Majesty seems - different.” He gestured helplessly. “She often does not recognize her most trusted courtiers and advisers, and has become quite testy - verging at times on the cruel. She shows no interest in her usual amusements or accomplishments, or indeed, even in the welfare of our kingdom. I worry that she is perhaps sickening of something.” And she called me “Dee” just now, he added to himself - almost as if we had never been lovers. In point of fact, the Queen had been avoiding him, except in the most public of circumstances. These last worrisome thoughts, however, he did not mention to Emma. “Frankly, I am at something of a loss as to how to help Her Majesty.”

Emma looked sympathetic. “Um – I appreciate you sticking up for me just now. I mean – my arrival was pretty odd, and all, so I can see why you thought I might be a threat. But I’m not - I swear. And I really am from another time.” She smiled at him, even as a horrible thought suddenly dawned on her. All of those puzzling changes that Dee had told her had suddenly come over Elizabeth – she had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly what – or who – was behind it.

Dee tilted his head. “For some reason, I believe you, Princess Emma. There is a sort of radiance about you - Your aura is bright with pure, shining colors. I know you mean us no harm.”

“You see auras?”

The magician nodded. “I do. But it’s not something I mention too frequently – not everyone in this court is as open to magic and the metaphysical sciences as Her Majesty and I. For that matter, the Queen's aura has been looking a lot different lately - frankly, it has me worried.” His expression sharpened. “Princess Emma, it would be best to not mention your magic to anyone – not even the Queen – for your own safety.”

“You said you didn’t think I was a witch.”

Dee sighed. “Correct - I do not. But my own mystical sight can see that you are nevertheless more than a mere woman – like myself, you possess magic – but in your case, it seems to be oddly stifled.”

“I’m – um – just in the learning stages,” Emma admitted.

“Indeed – that would explain it. Well, Princess Emma - You are free to wander the palace – to some extent – as long as you give me your word that you will cause no harm or upset to the Queen, or our kingdom.”

The blonde laid a hand on Dee’s shoulder. “I give you my word as a Princess,” she said solemnly.

“Which I gladly accept,” the magician replied, with a charming smile. 

“I don’t suppose you’ll let me have my own – um – possessions back?” She was thinking of the pistol Dee had earlier divested her of.

“My apologies, Princess Emma – but no – sadly, I can not give you back your weapon.” Seeing Emma’s crestfallen expression, Dee hurried to be conciliatory. “There is to be a Masque this evening in the throne room – You are welcome to attend, if you wish."

"A Masque? What's that? A costume ball?"

Dee smiled. "Some of the performers and guests do indeed like to wear elaborate masks and costumes. As for the event itself - The Masque combines dance with poetry readings and little staged plays, as well as songs. Her Majesty is very fond of such entertainments."

"Thank you, Doctor Dee – it sounds fun," Emma replied. "I think I will attend.” At least she wouldn’t be cooped up in this room – and by mingling with the court, perhaps she could learn something that would help her to escape. She had to find a way home to Killian.

The magician gave a graceful bow, and turned towards the door. As he opened it, and stepped into the hall, he looked back over his shoulder. “I will take my leave of you, Milady. If you need anything, just summon one of the servants. They will be glad to assist you.”

As the door closed, Emma rushed to it, and checked the handle. True to his word, John Dee had left the door unlocked. Relief washed through her. Immediately, her eyes went to her engagement ring, which still glittered on her left hand. Just as Killian had promised, his protection spell had kept Dee from discerning that the ring was a magical device. She could use it to send another message and a homing beacon to the pirate. Closing her eyes, she silently sent her love soaring through the realms, towards the captain of her heart.

*****

Storybrooke – Regina’s Home 

Killian frowned at his reflection in the full-length mirror, feeling a bit strange to be out of his black pirate leathers. He was standing in Regina’s immaculate laboratory. The scroll was spread out on her worktable, and the dark haired queen was bent over it, her brows furrowed in concentration. Beside her was Robin Hood. 

Regina glanced up. “What are you frowning about, Hook? I mean – Killian.” Drat, would she ever get the man’s name straight. 

“Are you sure this getup is the proper regalia for the timeline I’m going to?” The pirate gestured at the white linen shirt and brown leather doublet, which he wore over black riding breeches and tall black leather boots. Thrown carelessly over one shoulder was a dark crimson cloak, made of velvet. He wore his own scabbard and sword, and had concealed on his person a modern automatic pistol, extra clips, and his usual dagger.

“Lucky for us that we had the pictures in Henry’s history book for reference. Just be happy that I conjured up the attire of an Elizabethan ship’s captain, and not something else,” Regina replied, with a touch of mischief. “You should see what the courtiers back then wore – truly horrendous.”

“I’ll take your word for that,” Killian said. “But was all this really necessary?”

“Since you want to blend in, and not draw any undue attention to yourself while you search for Emma – then yes – definitely necessary.” She chuckled, and looked the pirate up and down. “I’m sure Emma will approve – you look quite dashing.”

Now it was Robin’s turn to frown.

Out of the corner of her eye, Regina caught his expression. “But you’re just as dashing, my dear,” she purred to the outlaw, and he immediately brightened. 

Killian smirked.

“So - Emma sent you another message through the ring?” Regina said.

The pirate turned around. “Aye – and I have the coordinates to incorporate into the scroll’s incantation.”

“You’re sure you can do this – and come back?” 

“Whether I can or not – I have no choice. I will not leave Swan lost in a strange past, far from home – and most likely, with Cora.”

Regina grimaced. “Ah yes – my dear mother. Point taken.”

“Does Emma know you’re coming for her?” Robin asked.

“The communication seems to only work one-way,” the pirate explained. “Not at all what I intended when I cast the protection spell, but perhaps the long distance between that time and ours accounts for the discrepancy.” He sighed. “Swan may possibly be able to see me when using the ring – but I know for certain, that she can’t hear what I’m saying. I’m afraid it’s all a bit of a muddle.”

Killian walked over to the table, and quietly stared down at the ancient parchment. 

“What I don’t understand,” Regina said. “Is how you managed to decipher the scroll? I’m not at all familiar with the language it’s written in.”

“It’s Tibetan,” the pirate answered. “The holy man taught it to me.” He smiled faintly. “After all – no sense in gifting me with a magical scroll I couldn’t read. Besides it was a nice way to pass the time on the voyage, until the Jolly Roger reached port – evidently I have a knack for languages.”

“Just like you have a knack for magic. So - you saved this holy man?”

The pirate nodded. “He had journeyed to our realm on a sort of magical exchange program with another wizard.”

“Not Rumple, I hope?”

“No – ‘twas a different conjuror. At any rate, I rescued the poor fellow from a pack of brigands who were attempting to rob and beat him. He was grateful and insisted on giving me the scroll.”

“And you’re sure you weren’t attempting to rob him yourself?” Regina couldn’t resist asking.

Robin laughed.

The pirate looked annoyed. “No – contrary to popular belief, even back in my bad old days, I still had some scruples left. He was a very elderly man – in fact, he reminded me a bit of my grandfather – so I drew my sword and drove the blighters away – then offered to take the old gentleman with us to the next port.”

“With that attitude, Killian, I think you would have fit in rather nicely with my merry men,” Robin commented.

Killian grinned. “Thank you – although I am not a forester – the sea runs too deeply in my veins.”

The outlaw bowed. “Yes – I suppose it does.”

“Well, Killian – are you ready?” Regina said.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He thought of Henry, ensconced for the night at his grandparents’ flat – and prayed that he and Swan would soon be reunited, and returned safely to their son. Picking up the scroll, Killian moved to the center of the room, and into the large chalk circle that Regina had earlier drawn on the hardwood floor. Standing within it, he faced his friends. “The circle has been blessed, and should protect you from the time portal I open – there will probably be some fireworks, and a lot of noise – so you might want to step back as far as possible.”

Regina and Robin did as he requested, putting as much distance as they could between themselves and the pirate. Nervously, they clasped hands. “Killian – please – take care,” Regina called out, and Robin added, “My friend - Just come back safely with your lady.”

Killian raised one brow. “I certainly intend to try.” He was silent for a moment. “Keep Henry safe.”

Tears sparkled in the queen’s dark eyes. “We will, Killian.”

The pirate raised the scroll, carefully holding it between his hand and the tip of his steel hook. Intently he looked down at the faded writing on the parchment, and started to read aloud the incantation. As he chanted, a preternatural wind arose, rattling the room, and knocking over the worktable, sending glass beakers and instruments crashing to the floor. As the howling of the wind increased, the earth started to shake, and flames suddenly erupted out of mid air. 

Regina screamed, and Robin wrapped his arms around her slender body, protectively drawing her close to him.

Killian kept murmuring the incantation. He glanced upward, his cloak whipping in the magical wind that roared around the chamber, and a swirling maelstrom of darkness appeared amidst the arcane fire burning across the ceiling. Smiling triumphantly, the pirate raised his arms, and shouted the final words of the spell, his clear voice rising over the tumult. In that exact instant, he was pulled into the midnight eye of the portal, as if by invisible hands. As the doorway through time snapped close behind him, there was total silence. The wind and the earth tremors died down, and the flames disappeared as abruptly as they had arrived, leaving behind just a few darkened scorch marks on the ceiling.

Of the pirate and the scroll, there was no sign.

Open-mouthed, Regina and Robin Hood stared at the chalk circle, which still shone whitely against the floor.

“My God,” Robin finally exclaimed. “He really did it!”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In search of Emma, Killian has journeyed back through time - to 16th Century England, and the court of Elizabeth the First - where a sinister presence threatens their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking ~ Also contains graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

London – 1559

As she wandered through the endless labyrinth of the palace, Emma Swan quietly began to weep. She had not seen another soul for quite some time. The ornately carved walls of this particular hallway were interspersed with lancet windows, through which the setting sun cast streamers of rose and amber light. Holding out her left hand, she stared through tear-bright eyes at her engagement ring. It seemed to have stopped transmitting. She kept mentally calling Killian’s name, sending out little surges of magic, but for now, something seemed to be blocking her from reaching him.

A chill shot through Emma, as she suddenly realized that she was enacting, not only her nightmare of the maze, but also the ghostly scene Killian had witnessed on the Jolly Roger on Christmas Eve. It was beyond strange, and filled her with foreboding.

Rounding a corner, she suddenly spotted two chambermaids scurrying along, their arms full of clean linen. They were chatting in low voices, and both of them seemed frightened.

“I tell you, Bess, something evil’s stalking the palace,” one girl said. “I heard that the Count D’Angelo was found this morning in his bed, stone cold dead, and white as a sheet. They say it looked as if all of his life had just been drained away from him.” Suddenly noticing Emma, she ceased talking, and exchanged a suspicious glance with her friend.

Hastily, Emma pasted a smile on her face, and nodding at the girls, hurried past them. For several minutes, she continued along the passage, until abruptly it opened out into a wide entryway. There was an arched door at the far end, through which she could see glimpses of an immense room filled with brightly clad aristocrats. The excited sound of their voices and laughter spilled from the room.

She had found the Queen’s Masque.

*****

The bedchamber shook as Killian fell from the portal into its scarlet and gold embrace. Stunned by the massive release of magical energy, he lay inert on the cold marble floor. Finally he staggered to his feet, and gazed around the glittering room. His beloved was nowhere to be seen. The pirate sighed. The coordinates the ring had given him were correct, so Swan had either left of her own accord, or (unpleasant thought) had been forcibly taken to another location.

Stuffing the scroll into the leather pouch dangling from his sword belt, he quickly moved to the unlocked door, and out into the hallway. The soaring ceilings and opulent surroundings told him that he was in someone’s palace – and based on the history book Regina had shown him, it most likely belonged to Elizabeth Tudor. There were a few locals wandering about, all headed in the same direction. Killian followed along, trying to look relaxed, and as if he belonged, although his hand hovered over the hilt of his cutlass. Fortunately, no one paid him the slightest heed. As he strode along the corridor, he silently extended his consciousness, attempting to connect with Emma. 

*****

Night had fallen, and Emma could see the moon shining through the tall windows of the throne room. The entire court was gathered there for the scheduled Masque. Elizabeth, resplendent in a ridiculously high ruff, and cream and gold brocade, lounged petulantly on her throne. Diamonds sparkled in her glossy red curls, and ropes of pearls were wound around her neck, with more diamonds flashing on her long, elegant fingers, in which she held a beautiful jeweled mask on a silver wand.

Emma, observing the gaudy display, smiled cynically. The Queen certainly loved her bling. For a brief moment, she caught a glimpse of something green sparkling amidst Elizabeth’s pearls, where they dipped low into the soft shadow between her breasts. But then she moved, and it was gone.

Fawning courtiers, who fluttered around her like peacocks, surrounded the young monarch. Standing a little apart was Doctor John Dee, a commanding presence in plain black velvet. His handsome face, so like Killian’s, was turned toward his Queen, but his brilliant eyes were troubled.

Emma’s gaze wandered around the crowded throne room. The walls and immense staircase were made of precious hardwoods, carved all over with Tudor roses, and everywhere was the metallic glimmer of gold and bronze. The white marble floor had been cleared for dancing, and the court musicians were tuning their instruments, readying to play. Actors in splendid painted masks stood about, practicing their lines, and discretely in the background, were the Queen’s armed guards, all standing at rigid attention. Must get pretty exhausting, Emma thought.

She sighed. It was all quite fascinating, but she saw nothing that would help her return to her own time, and to Killian. Perhaps if she could locate Dee’s laboratory, she might find something useful there. As she turned to slip away through the crowd, she suddenly heard someone call her name. It was Killian - She’d know that sexy Irish brogue anywhere, even when sent via telepathy. 

_"Swan? Where are you?”_ His tone was anxious. 

_“In the throne room, Killian – Are you actually here?”_

_“Aye – I used an ancient scroll to open a portal to this timeline. Are you all right, beloved?”_

Vastly relieved, Emma leaned against a wooden pillar, carved with twining serpents and more Tudor roses. _“Yes – I’m okay. The Queen’s adviser, Doctor John Dee, has allowed me the freedom of the palace, but only on my good behavior. There’s some sort of party going on in the throne room – looks like everyone who’s anyone, is here.”_

_“Stay there, Swan – I’ll be with you shortly.”_

_“Will do – but hurry, Killian.”_ She sent him an image of herself kissing him. In her mind’s eye, she saw Killian grin, and return the kiss. And then she felt the warm, pure strength of his love sweeping towards her across the palace, a wave of powerful energy that sent tingling all through her body.

On her throne, Elizabeth abruptly straightened up from her slouch. Her eyes widened, and the tip of her pointed tongue emerged from between her crimson lips, as her slender body began to tremble. John Dee instantly recognized that look. He’d seen it often enough, in the most secret hours of the night, when he held the Queen in his arms, and made love to her. It was obvious, Dee thought, that she was feeling the same surge of magic that he had just felt. But how could that be? Elizabeth had never before displayed the slightest hint of magical sensitivities. And yet tonight, there was something different about her – an odd greenish glow to her aura, as if she was vampirically feeding on some sort of invisible energy. He wondered if this energy was somehow connected to the mysterious princess, Emma Swan.

Watching Elizabeth, the young magician was uncomfortably reminded of a serpent tasting for prey. The smug smile that spread across her face was one of pure evil. Dee’s heart sank. No doubt about it - There was something horribly wrong with his Queen. 

*****

Emma jumped as she felt a warm hand grasp her shoulder. Turning around, she was grateful to see that it belonged to Killian Jones. She smiled blissfully, as she was pulled into his arms, and thoroughly kissed. 

“Thank the gods, Swan,” he murmured, tenderly caressing her face. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“That was my fear too,” Emma whispered back, leaning into his chest. She ran her fingers up and down the brown leather of his doublet. “What’s this? New duds?”

“Do you like them, Swan?” he teased.

Her jade eyes glowed. “Oh yes – very much indeed. Did you knock someone out for these?”

He shook his head. “Regina conjured them up, to better help me “blend” into this timeline.”

“Well, she did a damned good job.”

“I’m glad you approve, Swan,” he smirked. “And I must say – you also look quite fetching.”

“Thanks,” Emma replied. “Although this collar is scratchy as hell.” She tugged on the linen and lace ruff. “The designer of this style must be a sadist.” 

While they conversed, Killian was keeping careful watch over the room. As his gaze alighted on the figure of the Queen, he frowned. What the devil? There was something familiar about her, although he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Whatever it was, he didn’t like what he saw. Fortunately, milling courtiers distracted her, as did a tall man in black, who had his back turned to the pirate.

Killian shrugged. Now that he had found Swan, his only interest was in escaping with her from this timeline, and getting safely back home to their own era. He gave a slight nod to Emma, signaling his intent, and hand in hand, they headed for the distant door, edging past little knots of aristocrats, who were giggling and flirting with each other in the shadows.

The silvery tones of a flute suddenly blossomed in the room, soon followed by the cascading sweetness of fiddle, lute, and the virginal. A man in an elaborate mask designed to resemble a fox, began to sing. His pure baritone voice merged in exquisite harmony with the music, as a troop of young women, costumed as nymphs, performed a graceful pavane before the throne. The crowd erupted in delighted laughter, and soon people were grabbing partners, and joining in the dance.

Swept along in their wake, Killian and Emma soon found themselves on the packed dance floor, in the glittering midst of the revelers. Not wishing to call attention to themselves, they decided that their best course of action was to dance their way back across the room to the door, and then, as casually as possible, make their escape. The pirate put his arms around Emma, careful not to scratch her with his hook, and she placed her hand in his. Her heart beat a bit faster, as she realized that this was the first time that she had ever danced with her fiancé. Despite the danger surrounding them, she felt a little thrill as Killian drew her closer, and she stared into his beautiful eyes. 

“What sort of dance is this?” she asked, feeling a bit awkward as they maneuvered their way across the marble floor.

“I’m not sure, Swan, but it seems to be rather similar to the court dances of my kingdom – just follow my lead, and everything will be fine."

She laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm so glad you found me, Killian.” 

The pirate smiled, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Not even time itself can keep me from your side, beloved."

“Speaking of time, Killian – I wonder why Cora pulled me back here – into Elizabethan England? It makes no sense.”

“I’m sure she had her reasons,” he replied grimly. “And all of them bad.”

“No doubt – but there’s something off about this timeline. We’re back at the very beginning of Elizabeth’s reign, when she was young, and full of hope and love, and yet, according to Doctor Dee, the Queen's behavior lately has been very strange. She no longer seems to care about her kingdom or responsibilities, and has grown increasingly mean-spirited - even with him, and he's one of her most trusted advisers.”

“Indeed?” Killian said. One dark brow rose. “I don’t like the sound of this. We know that Cora is skulking around somewhere in this timeline – and now you tell me that the Queen is acting peculiar. I also sensed something odd about her - This can’t be good.”

As they glided through the crowd, the pirate started to grow uneasy. He could feel a hostile presence trying to slip past his psychic shields, probing for weak spots. The energy was cold and reptilian, utterly without empathy. He felt a sudden stabbing pain in his aura, as if a leech had fastened onto him.

He stared at Emma. “We need to get out of here, Swan – _now_.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

"Can't you feel it?"

She nodded, her worried expression mirroring his. “Now that you mention it – yes. But I just put it down to being jammed in with all of these people.” 

"By the gods, Swan," he gasped, doubling over in pain. Whatever it was - it was sucking the magic right out of him - and trying to siphon his life force too. Desperately, he rallied what was left of his psychic defenses, barely managing to sever the link to his attacker before it could totally drain him. His magic was still there, but tamped dangerously low.

“Killian!” Emma placed her hands on either side of his face, and reached deep inside of herself for healing magic. As the soft white light started to emanate from her fingers, she cried out in agony. It felt as if something had literally pierced her essence with a barbed spike.

She staggered, and would have fallen, had not Killian tightened his arms around her. “Fight it, Swan,” he urged. “Raise your shield, and command it to leave - Do it now!”

She could feel it battening away at her magic, scrabbling with cold talons at the warmth of her life essence. With a groan, she closed her eyes, and concentrated, finally flinging the loathsome presence away. “What just happened?”

“There’s someone of great power in this room – and I believe they're also a psychic vampire. When we activated our magic, this being attached itself to our auras, and attempted to drain our life force, and our magical powers away. If we hadn't managed just now to remove it, I fear we might have died. For now, beloved, keep your magic buried deep, and locked down. Until we figure out what the hell is going on, using our powers just might kill us."

An imperious voice called out, and the masked singer abruptly stopped in mid note. The music faded away, and the voice, brittle as ice cracking in a frozen sea, ripped through the silence. “You – You there! Just where in Hades do you think you’re going? Bring those two to me – at once! And no need to be gentle - if you have to kill one of them, so be it."

Instantly, the Queen’s guards raced across the room, their swords at the ready. The crowd parted, as if before Moses and the Red sea, while courtiers screamed, and in mass, scrambled to get out of the way.

There were too many innocent bystanders to risk using the pistol, so Killian decided to keep it hidden, until they could break free into a less crowded area. Reaching into his boot, he pulled out his dagger, and handed it to Emma. Quickly, the pirate drew his cutlass, and turned to face the on-rushing enemy.

Cursing her long skirts, Emma spun around, kicking a guard in the face. The man crashed backwards, screaming with pain. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Killian’s blade flashing like lightning, his handsome features grimly determined. The pirate thrust and parried, lunging again and again at his foes with deadly precision, until his weapon was smeared crimson with their blood.

Two guardsmen fell to Killian's sword, and as he turned to parry another attacker, he was slashed viciously across the left shoulder. Ignoring the pain, and the blood seeping down his arm, the pirate rushed at his opponent, impaling him with his blade. The man collapsed in a heap, his lifeless eyes staring up at the magnificent mural of cherubim that decorated the palace's high ceiling.

Emma, infuriated to see her beloved injured, lashed out with the dagger, screaming her defiance. As she whirled to administer a ferocious thrust, she was suddenly grabbed from behind and yanked off her feet. She felt cold steel against her throat. “Release the knife, Missy,” the man hissed in her ear. Trying to stay calm, she did as she was ordered. One of the other guards hurried over, and quickly scooped the weapon up. Emma could only hope that the guy would cut himself on it, but no such luck.

“Drop your sword now, or the blonde dies!” the guard yelled at Killian. He pressed the edge of his blade delicately into Emma’s skin, and a drop of blood slowly trickled down her neck.

Killian cursed, and threw his bloody cutlass to the ground. In moments, he was surrounded, his arms brutally pinioned behind his back. Eyes blazing, he glared at the guard who held Emma. “You’ll pay for harming her.” 

The guard sneered. “You can try.” 

“Oh, I can more than try,” Killian promised. He nodded at the three dead guards sprawled on the floor.

Ignoring this comment, the other man beckoned to his fellows. “Take these scum to the Queen.”

None too gently, the guards dragged Killian and Emma across the room, towards the raised dais of Elizabeth’s throne. The crowd drew back, watching their progress with terrified eyes, their voices rising shrilly, like the humming of a thousand bees.

At the foot of the throne, the guards stopped, and roughly pushed Killian and Emma to their knees. The one who had captured Emma stepped forward, and bowed. “Your Majesty,” he murmured. “The prisoners await your pleasure.”

“Excellent, Rainer,” the Queen purred. She bent forward, a predator about to crunch down on a particularly delectable tidbit.

“My Queen!” John Dee whispered. “Why are you doing this? I don’t understand why you had your guardsmen attack Princess Emma and her – ah - companion. They were simply enjoying the dance, like your other guests. And now, because of the attack, we have suffered violence in our court, and the loss of three good men.” 

Elizabeth cocked her head, and laughed. The sound was chilling. "You would be wise to not interfere, Doctor Dee. Or you might be the next to go."

Dee recoiled from the venom in her gaze. A stranger stared at him. This was most decidedly _not_ his Queen.

Elizabeth stood, her fingers wrapped loosely around the silver handle of her mask, contemplating her prisoners.

Killian raised his head. As his eyes met those of John Dee, both men gasped. It was impossible – and yet the two were mirror images of each other. Except for their differences in clothing, and the color of their eyes, they were as alike as twins.

The Queen smirked. “Well, well, well – What have we here?” She took a step forward, and peered into the pirate’s face. “I didn’t know you had a brother, Doctor Dee.”

“I don’t, Your Majesty,” the magician replied. “I am just as baffled as you by this gentleman.”

“Who are you?” Elizabeth asked, addressing herself to the pirate.

“Captain Killian Jones,” he replied. “And I might ask the same of you.”

The guard called Rainer struck Killian in the face. “Show some respect when you talk to your betters.”

The pirate winced, but remained defiant. "I'll show some respect, when some is shown to us."

“Leave him alone!” Emma cried, struggling against the muscular man who held her in his grasp, his huge fingers digging painfully into her arms. She would have blasted him with magic, but just in time remembered Killian’s admonishment to keep her powers hidden until they could discover who was trying to drain them.

“Don’t, Swan – _please_ ,” Killian implored. “You’ll only give them an excuse to hurt you.” He smiled crookedly. “I’m fine." 

"More than fine," Elizabeth cut in. Her sly eyes darted from Killian, to the magician, and back again. "Both of you are so very, _very_ handsome. What an _interesting_ development." She gazed intently at the pirate, as if trying to pierce him to the core.

Killian glared back. There was something decidedly familiar about the redheaded monarch, and not in a good way. Where had he seen those mad eyes, and that greedy smile before? As she leaned forward, as if to give him a better view of her cleavage, he spotted the immense emerald nestled between her pale breasts. And he suddenly knew.

As if reading his mind, the Queen snickered, and waved her mask languidly at the guards. “Take them away to the dungeon – to await my _pleasure_.” There was a poisonous sweetness to the way she pronounced that last word, as much a threat, as it was a promise.

Sickened, John Dee could only watch helplessly as the guards hauled off Princess Emma and her captain to the bowels of the palace. With an arrogant chuckle, the Queen settled herself on the throne, and ordered the Masque to resume. As the music started to play, a dangerous plan began to take shape in the young magician's mind.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Elizabethan England, Killian and Emma are imprisoned in the dungeon of the Queen's palace - There, they come face to face with a mysterious prisoner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking ~ Also contains some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

London – 1559 

Moonlight seeped into the cell, from a tiny window set high in the damp stones of the dungeon wall. Things were looking dire – but thankfully, they were still alive, and together. Killian tightened his arms protectively around Emma, and kissed her. His wounds throbbed, and he was bleeding, but that was the least of his worries. Sighing, he glanced around the cell. It was bare, save for the filthy straw on the floor, a pail of water, and another, less savory bucket that stood a few feet away. The guards had, of course, removed all of his weapons, including his steel hook. They had even taken Emma’s ring, and far worse, had also seized the leather pouch and the magical scroll it contained.

Emma ached from the mauling that Rainer had given her, but her immediate concern was Killian, and his wounds. Gently, she disengaged herself from his embrace, and lifting the hem of her long gown, began to tear strips of cotton from her petticoats, to use as cleaning cloths and makeshift bandages. When she had enough strips, she dipped some of them into the cloudy drinking water, and carefully dabbed at the pirate's shoulder, all the while praying that he wouldn't get an infection, while Killian tried to ignore the pain. 

As she finished tying the last bandage, she said, “Killian – What are we going to do?”

He was silent for a long moment. “We’ll find a way, beloved – we still have our magic – and the eternity necklace.” 

“The necklace? But Cora tore it off my throat when she dragged me through the portal.”

The pirate smiled, and patted his cloak. “I have it, Swan – hidden right here, in a concealed pocket in my cloak. Fortunately, the guards didn’t find it when they patted me down.”

“Will it work? Can we just teleport out of here to home?”

“Regrettably, it’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“We are far back in the past of this world, Swan - and the necklace, even though infused with our joined magic, is not powerful enough on its own to open a time portal. If we can re-gain the scroll, we should be able use its magic to augment the necklace's energy enough to go home. Or so I hope."

"You're not sure?" she asked.

He took her hand in his. "I will not lie to you, my darling. The scroll was designed to send only one person through time, and back again. On its own, it cannot transport us both. Even with scroll and necklace combined, it may not be strong enough to get the two of us home."

"Oh my God, Killian - You were planning to send me back alone, weren't you?"

Sadly, he nodded. "You know me too well, Swan."

Emma stared at him, her expression determined. “The hell I'm leaving you behind. We'll get the scroll back, and somehow, between the two of us, we'll make it work. But first, we have to escape this damned dungeon."

“Easier said than done,” a laconic voice murmured from the stygian depths of the cell.

“Who’s there?” Killian called out.

Slowly, a form emerged from the darkness. It was a woman, tall and slender, her face hidden beneath a tattered hooded cloak. As she neared the startled couple, she reached up and threw back the hood, revealing tangles of red hair, and an intelligent oval face smeared with dirt. There were dark circles of exhaustion under her eyes, and purple bruises marred one of her high cheekbones.

“Elizabeth,” Emma breathed in astonishment. 

Killian stared, unsure what to think. Was this another sly trick? “Your…Majesty?”

The woman laughed sardonically. “I am Elizabeth - although at the moment, only Queen of this dismal hellhole.” Regal even in rags, she tilted her head, and with a faint smile, opened the front of her drab woolen gown. The pale freckled skin of her neck and upper chest was innocent of any jewels. Thankfully, it was also lacking a certain tell tale emerald. “You may rest assured - I am _not_ the Witch.” Her eyes narrowed. “And who, pray tell, have I the honor of addressing?”

Gracefully, the pirate bowed. “Captain Killian Jones at your service, Your Majesty.” He gestured at Emma. “And this is Her Royal Highness, Princess Emma of Storybrooke.”

“You are royal?” Elizabeth’s auburn brows shot up. 

Emma shrugged, and attempted a curtsy. “Um – yeah.” As she straightened up, she noticed the redhead’s frown, and hastily added, “Your Majesty.”

Mollified, the young Queen gave a brief nod of approval, and then turned to Killian, her beautiful dark eyes full of curiosity. “Captain Jones – You bear a most striking resemblance to our dear Doctor Dee. Are you, by any chance, a relation of his?”

“Not that I am aware, Your Majesty – but I suppose there is a possibility.”

She smiled. "Princess Emma is very fortunate to have such a gallant sea captain as her companion. I take it that you are a privateer for the kingdom of Storybrooke?”

“Indeed I am, Your Majesty,” Killian answered. “But all that aside, we must escape this place – and return you to your rightful throne.”

“Your Majesty - How did the Witch take over?” Emma interjected.

The Queen looked down at her feet for a moment, and sighed. “It happened a few nights ago. I was happily lounging in my own bed, and John had just left me…” Her voice trailed off, and she suddenly blushed as red as her famous hair. 

“It’s all right, Your Majesty – Your secret is safe with us,” Emma said reassuringly. She glanced at Killian. “We understand about - being in love.”

Elizabeth stared intently at her, and then at the pirate. “Yes, I see that you do,” she said softly. “It is not easy being in love when you are young, and a Queen – and everyone is baying for you to choose a mate who will further England’s interests. Of course, none of these royal “suitors” are to _my_ interest, or preference.” She sighed again. “I deeply love John Dee - and he loves me - but no one must ever know. It could cost me my kingdom, and John his life.”

Killian looked sympathetic. “We will guard your and Doctor Dee’s secret with our own lives, Your Majesty.”

The Queen nodded. “For that I thank you both.” She ran her fingers through the tangled mass of her hair. “That night, I was growing a little sleepy, when suddenly the chamber began to shake - I thought it was an earthquake. Before I could even call to John for help, some sort of doorway opened – and something wicked stepped through it, and into my room. A woman stood at the foot of my bed. She had hair as red as mine, but her skin was as green as the big emerald around her neck. Her eyes stared balefully into mine. As I opened my mouth to scream, she grinned nastily, and muttered some sort of incantation. I immediately lost consciousness, and when I awoke, I was here in the dungeon of my own palace, clad in rags. And while I kept trying to tell the guards my true identity, they all just laughed, and called me a mad woman – one even hit me.” Elizabeth rubbed at her bruised cheek. “They told me that the “Queen” was safe and well in the palace – and that if I uttered any more nonsense, they’d haul me off to the Tower, and the block. I knew then that the imposter had taken my place, and that no one – perhaps not even John - would ever be the wiser.” She gave another unhappy sigh. “And here I've been in this cell, all alone, until the two of you came along.”

Gently Emma laid her hand on the Queen’s shoulder. “You’re not alone any longer, Your Majesty.”

"Well," Elizabeth said briskly. "It's certainly not the first time I've been imprisoned." She suddenly grinned. "So - You have a plan?"

*****

At the first opportunity, John Dee made his apologies to the false “Queen”, and departed the throne room. Behind him, the Masque continued, although there was now a decidedly brittle undertone to the festivities. Deeply disturbed, the handsome young magician made his way as quickly as he could across the palace to his laboratory. 

Once there, he locked the door, and frantically pulled books off the tall shelves that lined the room. Throwing them atop his worktable, he sat down, and opened the first ornate leather cover. He began to read, flipping rapidly through page after page of yellowed vellum, all covered with intricate calligraphy, and written in an obscure language that had been mostly forgotten for a thousand years. 

His search through the ancient tomes continued for more than an hour. Finally, peering at yet another page of arcane script, his eyes widened, and a little thrill of excitement coursed through him, as he realized that the means to defeat the imposter was cradled in his hands.

With a grim smile, Dee stuffed the small book into the pocket of his robe, and hurried from the chamber. Only two people would believe him – Princess Emma and her sea captain. He must free them - and with their help, he would find and rescue his beloved Elizabeth, and drive the evil one from the throne of England. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imprisoned with Emma and Elizabeth in the Queen's dungeon, Killian hatches a daring plan of escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking ~ Also contains some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

London – 1559 

“I’m so damned weary of being cold,” Emma muttered crankily. It was so frigid in the cell that she could feel goose bumps rising on her arms. “Why can’t we ever end up some place warm and fun – like the Rivera or something?” 

“Some day, my love, we’ll do just that,” Killian promised, and with a flourish, wrapped his cloak around his shivering fiancée. “There you go - Better?”

She nodded. “Thank you, Killian – but now you’ll be cold – this dump is freezing.”

“I’m fine, Swan, don’t worry about me,” he replied. “Besides, we’re leaving this place, and soon.”

Elizabeth, standing nearby, gazed at the couple with a dubious expression. “You think your plan will really work?” 

“Aye, your majesty,” the pirate assured her, and winked. “Just play your parts, ladies, and leave the rest to me.”

“Very well,” Elizabeth said, and as Killian melted into the shadows, she lay down on the dirty floor, and began to moan.

Emma moved to the door, and putting her face close to the tiny barred window, bellowed for the guard. “This woman is about to give birth – Call a physician at once!”

Elizabeth moaned louder, and Emma continued to yell at the top of her lungs. For added effect, she kicked the wooden door several times, as hard as she could.

Soon the sound of feet trampling down the stairs could be heard, and in moments, a hulking guard appeared at the cell door. “What’s this racket, woman?” he grumbled, staring blearily through the barred window. Emma didn’t recognize him – he must be the relief guard. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked like he’d been drinking. “Be quiet, or I’ll give ye the back of my hand.”

Emma's eyes narrowed, and she suppressed a scowl. "Can't you see that she's about to have a baby?" She gestured at the huddled form of the Queen, who gave another deep groan. 

The guard grinned slyly. “Oh? The slut’s about to spawn a whelp, is she? Well, ain’t that too damn bad - should have kept her legs closed.” He guffawed. 

Cursing under her breath, Elizabeth moaned again, and made a mental note to have this particular lout removed from his post as soon as she returned to her throne. 

“She’s an important prisoner,” Emma said smoothly. “If she dies, the Queen will have your head.” And that possibility is definitely looking more and more likely by the minute, you creep. “Please come in, and help us.”

He scratched his head. “I dunno…”

Emma forced a pleasant smile on her face. “ _Please_ – I’ll be very, _very_ grateful, if you’ll just help us. And I’ll put in a good word for you with the Queen – I’m sure a generous reward will be in the offing.”

The guard brightened. “Reward? I could do with some silver – but gold would be even better,” he added greedily. With a leer, he stared into Emma's face. “You’re a pretty wench – promise me some loving, as well as the coins, and I’ll see what I can do to help your friend.”

“Oh, I definitely promise you’ll get _everything_ you deserve,” she purred, as Elizabeth issued another loud moan. “But please hurry – the baby’s coming fast!” 

“Well, lass, I don’t know what good I can do,” he chuckled. “But I’ll give it a try. Just don’t get your knickers in a pinch, eh? Not yet anyway – Plenty of time for that later.” There was a click as he inserted the key into the lock, and the door creaked open. Still leering, he stepped into the dimly lit cell.

“Now, let’s just see what’s wrong with your friend,” the guard mumbled, and sauntered over to Elizabeth, who was still groaning dramatically. As he bent forward for a better look at the mound on the floor, Killian emerged from the darkness.

Swiftly the pirate grabbed the guard around the throat, and none too gently, applied pressure, using the technique the Tibetan wise man had taught him, so long ago. With a gasp, the man instantly collapsed, unconscious, and Killian dragged him into the furthest corner of the cell. Once there, he tore strips from the guard’s tunic, and used it to bind his hands and feet, with another rag stuffed into his mouth.

“That should hold you for awhile, you miserable swine,” he murmured.

He walked back to the two women. The young Queen was now standing, and both she and Emma were grinning from ear to ear. Behind them, the door was cracked open, and he could a see a sliver of golden torchlight shining through.

“Bravo, Captain!” Elizabeth beamed, and Emma said, “Pretty cool, sweetie.”

Killian bowed gracefully. “Thank you, dear ladies – and I must say, you both played your parts to perfection. Now, let us bid this dreary hovel adieu - We have an imposter to unmask. ”

Elizabeth smiled grimly. "Indeed we do. And I know just the man to help us - my dearest John Dee." 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having engineered their escape, Emma, Killian, and Elizabeth reunite with Doctor John Dee, and together, devise a scheme to finally defeat Zelena once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking ~ Also contains some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

London – 1559

As Emma, Killian, and Elizabeth hurried through the darkened corridors of the palace, the two women kept their faces carefully covered with their hoods. Fortunately, most everyone was still at the masque, and the few people they did encounter paid them no heed.

“How much further to Doctor Dee’s quarters?” Emma asked in a low voice.

“We’re getting near,” Elizabeth replied. 

As they rounded the corner, the young Queen, her head down, suddenly collided with a tall man sprinting toward them from the opposite end of the hall. Cursing, Elizabeth and the man tumbled to the parquet floor in a tangle of robes and flailing limbs.

As Emma and Killian rushed to the Queen’s side, the man pulled the redhead to her feet, and flung her hood back. “Elizabeth?” And then, in a much softer tone, “Are you all right, my darling?”

The Queen stared up into the concerned features of John Dee. With a sigh of relief, she sagged in the magician’s arms, murmuring his name. 

He tightened his embrace, and pressed a fervent kiss to the top of her head, for once beyond caring that they were not alone. All that mattered was that his beloved Elizabeth was safe and back in his arms, where she belonged. His lips tightened, as he spotted the bruise marring her pale cheek. Whoever had struck her would pay in full - But he would deal with that later. For now, he must get his Queen to safety.

Killian and Emma exchanged glances, and then gestured to the lovers to keep moving, back in the direction from which John Dee had come. In a few moments they arrived at the magician’s rooms. Dee ushered his three companions inside, bolting the massive oak door behind them. With a snap of his fingers, the filigree lantern that was suspended from the ceiling flared to life, flooding the chamber with golden light. “There – that’s better.” He turned to the others. “How on earth did you all escape?” 

Emma grinned, and gestured at Elizabeth. “We tricked the guard into the cell by the Queen pretending to give birth, and then Killian overpowered him. Piece of cake.”

Dee looked a bit startled, then nodded. “Ah – I see. Well done, everyone.” His glance shifted to Elizabeth, and he smiled fondly. “I’m so glad you’re safe and well, Your Majesty.” 

“Thank you, John, it’s good to be back.” Elizabeth’s dark eyes shone with love. For a few sweet moments, the Queen and her magician basked in each other’s presence. Finally she said, “But how do we go about unmasking the imposter and regaining my throne? The minute we accuse her, she’ll have my own guards throw us all into the dungeon – or worse.”

“Perhaps we can wait until she retires for the night, and then sneak into her – I mean – _your_ chambers, Your Majesty,” Emma ventured. “And deal with the bitch in private.”

“Best be prepared to kill her at once, Swan,” Killian said. “If you hesitate for even a moment, she’ll drain the magic and life right out of all of us. The woman’s a damn psychic vampire, as well as a practitioner of dark magic. She almost killed us at the masque earlier this evening.”

Dee’s expression was grave. “I suspected as much. But there is another way.” He reached into the pocket of his robe, and withdrew a small book. Arcane lettering shone dimly on its tattered leather cover, gilt in the lantern light.

“What’s that?” Killian asked.

“A very, very ancient book of magic,” Dee answered, his long fingers reverently stroking the tome’s cover. “From an advanced civilization that perished long ago, under the flood waters of the Atlantic.”

“Atlantis?” Emma asked. She stared with fascination at the book. “It really existed?”

“Indeed it did – and Atlantis is only one of its many names,” the magician explained. “Although we may never know what those that dwelt there actually called their land. At any rate, there is a spell within the book’s pages that will nullify the witch’s magical disguise, and reveal her as she really is - and at the same time, mute her powers.”

The pirate looked thoughtful. “And you intend to do this in front of witnesses, I assume? And then produce Elizabeth as the true Queen?” He smirked. “A most worthy plan – I heartily approve.”

Dee returned the smirk, and Emma and Elizabeth both stared, once again amazed by the uncanny resemblance between the two men.

“But that means going back to the throne room tonight,” Elizabeth said. “That could be very, very dangerous, John – most especially for you, since you plan to activate a powerful spell. What if she turns on you, and tries to drain your life force?”

The handsome magician gently took Elizabeth’s hand in his. “Do not worry, my love – I have more power than this upstart witch could ever suspect.” His expression hardened. “And I’ve no intention of allowing her to win our deadly game. She will be defeated, and you will be returned to your rightful throne. This I promise.”

“It will work,” Killian said firmly. “Emma and I also have magic – and we’ll use it to create some sort of diversion. Zelena willl smell our powers like a serpent seeking prey, and will greedily center all of her attention on us.”

Emma’s startled jade eyes flashed to Killian’s. “Is that wise, Killian? To use magic, I mean. You said we should tamp our power far down, so she couldn’t sense it, and use it against us.”

“Aye, Swan, that I did,” he admitted. “But we know what we’re dealing with this time around – and when Zelena comes for us, we’ll be ready. Together, we can fight her – and while she’s busy with us, John will strike.” He bent forward and kissed Emma on the lips. “It will work, beloved – trust me, we’ll be fine. And when we’ve defeated Zelena, we can finally concentrate on getting us home.”

Emma smiled. “As long as it’s both of us, Killian - I will never leave you.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way, Swan.” He winked. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me for the long haul."

“What will I be doing while all of you are risking your lives for me?” Elizabeth suddenly said. Her beautiful face was grim. “I won’t let all of you fight this monster alone – After all, it's my throne and my people for which we do battle…and more importantly…Do you think that I, as Queen of England, will do nothing, while those I love court danger?” Her eyes swept over them, one by one. “For I love you all – and I will not stand idly by, and see any of you harmed or killed on my behalf.”

Killian and Emma were deeply touched by the youthful monarch's declaration. And while they returned her affections, they nevertheless were worried about her safety - not only as their friend - but also because it was vital to the history of this time line that she survive. "Your Majesty," Emma began. "We love you too - but we're going up against a pretty hazardous situation - please, let us handle this."

Elizabeth cut her off. "Your concern is most appreciated, Princess Emma, but I refuse to hide in the shadows while all of you face danger."

“My dearest Queen…” Dee murmured, caressing her shoulder.

“John,” Elizabeth replied. “I know you would protect me with your last breath, and your life – your precious life – and that I will _not_ allow. We will fight this thing together, you and I, just as Princess Emma and her Captain have vowed to do. I will not be deterred from this.”

Emma exchanged a conspiratorial glance with the Queen. “I see that you are as devoted to your man, as I am to mine, Your Majesty.”

The redhead nodded. “Yes – most devoted. But once again – what shall my role in all this be?”

“Can you sing, Your Majesty?” Emma asked.

Elizabeth looked puzzled. “Why, yes – I’ve been told that I have a rather pleasing voice.”

Emma plucked a silvery mask from the magician’s wall. It was finely made of painted leather, and depicted a lioness. She handed it to Elizabeth. “The lion – or in this case – lioness – is the Queen of Beasts – a regal and most mysterious creature.” She grinned. “Your Highness – It’s time to hear you roar.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian Jones and Emma Swan, with the help of their new found friends, Elizabeth Tudor and Doctor John Dee, put their plan into motion to challenge Zelena. Together, will they be able to defeat the Witch's evil - and survive?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking ~ Also contains some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

London - 1559

The false Elizabeth lounged restlessly on the great throne of England, clearly bored. Occasionally she toyed with the chain around her neck, and a brilliant flash of green could be seen, shining from the emerald suspended between her breasts. A smug smile crossed her lips, as she surveyed the festive revelers thronging the throne room. Everywhere was the gleam of gold and wealth, brilliant in the candlelight – and it was now hers – all hers. She was going to have such fun bringing this kingdom to its knees - _much_ better than that wretched Storybrooke. Zelena threw back her head, and laughed shrilly. 

From the far side of the room, the true Queen stared grimly at the imposter, her dark eyes peering out from the confines of the lion mask. She was costumed as a nymph, the Grecian lines of her white linen gown a perfect foil to the silvery leather of the mask. A hood of ivory-colored velvet, embroidered with tiny seed pearls and golden thread, hid her red curls. Elizabeth adjusted the hood, her fingers nervously stroking the soft fabric.

“It will be okay,” Emma murmured from beside her. She laid a comforting hand on the Queen’s shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Elizabeth turned towards the blonde. “I hope so, Princess Emma.” 

"You’ll be fine,” Emma assured her.

“Indeed you will,” put in Killian. “Now, Your Majesty, ‘tis time for you to launch your song. Make it grand, and make it loud. We want everyone’s attention on you when Swan and I start our diversion.”

The young monarch nodded, and as she glided away toward the court musicians, Killian winked at her.

He shifted his glance to Emma. “Ready, beloved?” 

“Any time you are."

Leaning forward, the pirate gave Emma a quick kiss. For a moment the lovers gazed silently at each other. 

“All right then,” Killian said, and together, they melted into the crowd.

A graceful figure in white talked softly to the group of musicians positioned near the dais. The lead flutist listened quietly, and finally inclined his head. Turning to his fellows, he waved his free hand, and the group began to play a lilting melody.

Facing the throne, the masked stranger bowed. And then she began to sing. Her voice was a clear, pure alto that floated into the glittering room like silk over steel. She sang of love – Love that was strong and true, love that never faltered, love that would last a lifetime, and beyond. Everyone grew still, their spirits soaring with the singer. Even Zelena listened, although only with her ears. She had lost her soul long ago.

With cries of appreciation, some of the gentlemen standing closest to the enigmatic performer threw roses and coins in her direction. Soon the marble around her feet was strewn with fragrant petals, and the shine of gold. Behind her mask, the Lioness smiled, and continued her song, her voice rising to the vaulted ceiling in crystalline perfection.

From the other side of the enormous room, a sudden commotion broke out. A man and woman yelling, and then a crash as a plinth fell over, sending a tall porcelain vase, filled with roses and evergreen boughs, crashing to the floor. Bolts of jagged energy crackled and flared, shattering the candlelit gloom.

Zelena was instantly alert. Her eyes narrowed, emerald fire flickering hellishly in their depths, and she started to twitch. As she voraciously sucked magical energy into her aura, she groaned, as if in the throes of orgasm. 

The yelling increased, and there were more crashes as other vases were knocked from their pedestals. Throughout the disruption, the masked singer continued her song, her voice piercing in its depth and passion.

Abruptly a powerful male voice (with a decided Irish accent) rose above the music. “Down with the false queen – Long live the true Elizabeth!” 

A woman’s voice joined with his, shouting the same slogan, over and over again.

Blinding white light shot across the room, over the heads of the crowd. People began to scream. The little orchestra ground to a halt, and the singer fell silent. Proudly she lifted her head, arms crossed over her chest, gazing directly at the bejeweled imposter sprawled across the throne.

The Witch stood, quivering with rage, and the after-burn of a too greedy consumption of magic. Her head swiveled in all directions. “Who dares to defy me? I am the Queen!” Wildly, she motioned to the guards grouped around the throne. “Bring those traitors to me – At once!”

The men swiftly drew their weapons, and rushed toward the other side of the room, roughly shoving their way through the frightened crowd.

More yells, and the sound of steel clashing against steel, followed by howls of pain from some of the guards.

Sardonic laughter rang out from a tall, leather-clad man with dark hair. He lunged forward, his sword flashing like lightning. Beside him was a blonde woman in a scarlet cloak, her own blade moving almost quicker than the eye could see. The two fought back to back - doing their best to wound, not kill, the attacking guards. 

Zelena craned her neck, and bellowed at the guards. “Kill them! Kill the traitors!”

It was at that exact moment, with all her attention entirely focused on the battle, that John Dee darted forward, his expression determined. Mounting the dais, he seized Zelena by the arm, and whirled her about. Staring intently into her startled eyes, he chanted the spell, the ancient words falling over the Witch in long, fluid cadences that burned as they penetrated her aura, instantly ripping away her false disguise, and all of her magic.

Zelena shrieked as she writhed in the magician’s grasp. For a brief moment, her emerald pendant glowed bright as a miniature sun, and then it exploded, showering her with jagged fragments, washed pale and clean as ice. As the pieces of the shattered gem rained down her skin, her body convulsed, and her features wavered like melting wax. When she finally lifted her head and glared at John Dee, it was with the face of a stranger. She was beautiful, but in the way of a poisonous serpent. Her hair, still vivid red, sparkled with gems she had stolen from Elizabeth, and her huge blue-green eyes blazed with anger and malevolence.

“You!” she spit, as she twisted back and forth, trying to break free. She closed her eyes, trying to summon her magic, but to her horror, nothing happened. She was as empty as the crushed husk of a wasp’s nest.

“Behold the imposter!” John Dee shouted, spinning her around to face the crowd. There were cries of outrage and bewilderment, with people demanding to see the true Queen. Without loosening his hold on Zelena, Dee pointed at the slender form of the masked singer. “She is there! Our Glorianna – Our most beloved Queen Elizabeth!” _My _beloved Elizabeth, he added silently to himself.__

The mysterious woman turned around, slowly raising her hands to the silver mask. With a triumphant flourish, she removed it from her face, and flung back her hood. There was a gasp from the throng. She smiled with deep satisfaction, her dark eyes catching those of John Dee. "Thank you, my darling," she whispered. Then she called out to her guardsmen, her words strong and vibrant. "Unhand my friends!"

There were mumbled apologies from the guards, and soon Killian and Emma were making their way across the room. The pirate smirked as a courtier in gold velvet scurried from his path, clearly terrified.

Beaming, Elizabeth stepped forward and warmly embraced the couple as they halted before her. “My dearest, dearest friends,” she murmured. “How can I ever thank you?”

Killian bowed. “It was our pleasure to assist you, Your Majesty.”

“Piece of cake, Your Highness,” Emma added, and grinned.

Elizabeth turned to the Witch. “As for _you_ , vile imposter – I shall meditate on what your punishment will be for daring to usurp my throne - and for attempting to destroy our beloved realm.”

Zelena’s face twisted with hatred. “You bitch! You’d be _nothing_ without your pet magician by your side, and that woman and her damned pirate.”

None too gently, John Dee shook the Witch. “Watch your filthy mouth when you speak to the Queen,” he growled.

At her most regal, Elizabeth stared at Zelena. “I am Elizabeth Tudor – and I have faced far, far worse than you.” She remembered her mad father, and her equally mad sister, both now dead. “Guards, take her away – to the deepest dungeon, where she will await my final decision regarding her fate.”

But as two burly guardsmen hurried to obey the Queen’s command, a gloating expression flitted across Zelena’s face. She laughed as her hands were chained, and she was led from the dais. “I may no longer have any magical power,” she sneered, “but I know someone who does.”

Dee shouted a warning, and as he reached out a protective hand towards the Queen, a whirling vortex suddenly erupted in the space between them. Killian and Emma were thrown to the ground, and Elizabeth, screaming, was seized by an invisible force, and lifted high into the air. 

From the yawning darkness between worlds, the translucent figure of a woman emerged, pallid as a corpse. Gibbering with fear, people backed away, and the woman smiled. Her eyes, like burning coals, glittered with malice.

“Good God,” Emma muttered, struggling to her feet. "It can't be..."

“Unfortunately, Swan – It is,” the pirate said grimly. He drew his sword. “Cora – when the hell will we ever be rid of you?”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sixteenth Century England - and Killian Jones and Emma Swan are once again pitted against their most implacable and dangerous foe. Their lives, and those of their companions, Elizabeth Tudor and John Dee, are at stake, as is the fate of a kingdom. Will they finally defeat the evil that is Cora - once and for all?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. This chapter contains horror, graphic violence, and death. The story also features romance, angst, tastefully described lovemaking, and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 Spoilers and/or hints.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

London – 1559

Killian tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, and glared with loathing at the ghastly figure floating in the center of the throne room. At his side, he could feel Emma’s agitation as she drew her own weapon, and stepped closer to him.

Cora met the pirate’s eyes, and laughed maliciously. Suspended high above her head was the struggling form of Elizabeth Tudor, held fast by the sorceress’ evil magic. The young woman screamed in agony as Cora tightened her invisible bonds, and squeezed.

“Put her down, Cora!” Killian shouted. “Your fight is with me and Swan – leave the Queen out of this!”

Suddenly John Dee rushed forward. He raised his hand, and shimmering blue light blasted out, striking Cora so hard that she screeched with pain, and clutched at her solar plexus. As she did so, her magic briefly wavered, and her grasp on Elizabeth loosened.

The Queen plummeted to the floor, landing near Dee. She lay stunned, the breath knocked out of her. Murmuring her name, the magician quickly gathered his lover into his arms, anxiously checking for broken bones. 

A few feet away, Zelena strained against the guardsmen who held her prisoner, her face twisted almost beyond recognition with hate. “Kill them, Mother!” she shrieked. “Kill them all!”

“In good time,” Cora promised. Her head swiveled, a serpent seeking prey. “But first things first.” She gestured, and a plume of oily purple smoke glided towards Killian and Emma.

Extending his sword, the pirate swiftly muttered an incantation. The weapon glowed white hot, and an arc of incandescent light shot from its tip. There was a shriek from Cora as Killian’s magic caught her on the shoulder, and the smoke instantly vanished.

The sorceress rubbed at her injury. “Still as annoying as ever, Hook,” she snarled.

“Aye, that I am, Cora – and I see that you’re still the same foul bitch.”

“Compliments will avail you naught,” Cora replied. With an arrogant smile, she waved one ghostly hand, and half of the marble floor cracked open, creating a yawning crevice through which dozens of courtiers fell, screaming in terror. 

“Murderer!” yelled Emma. Brilliant streamers of white light erupted from her fingers, and flew straight at the sorceress.

Violently, the magic buffeted Cora, who rocked back on her heels as she was struck. Like a perverse jack-in-the-box, the sorceress swayed back and forth, then slowly stilled. “You’ll have to do better than that, pretty girl."

Emma’s eyes met Killian’s. “That should have killed her."

“Aye, Swan – but the problem is – she’s already dead.”

Another wave of Cora’s hand, and people were tossed through the air like rag dolls, and slammed against the walls. Blood splattered the carved wood, and the victims slid to the floor, rendered unconscious, or possibly dying. Cora’s hand rose for a third time, and the rest of the crowd, along with Elizabeth’s guardsmen, ran for their lives, stampeding in utter terror from the room.

As John Dee summoned his magic for another attack upon Cora, he and Elizabeth were abruptly enveloped in a glowing lattice of dark purple energy. Raging, the magician attempted to pierce the cage with a spell, but it was hopeless. The cage acted as a dampener, effectively blunting his magic.

Cora stared at the last two remaining guardsmen – the men who still held her daughter captive. Before the frightened soldiers could flee, the sorceress sent a bolt of energy towards them, and they both disintegrated in a shower of blood and flesh.

Killian and Emma ran toward the sorceress, shouting their defiance. Cora faced them, her eyes shining like a jackal's. As the lovers attempted to summon their magic, she flung her hands into the air, and screamed an incantation. There was a roaring sound, as if the entire palace was about to explode. Everything started to spin, and purple smoke blanketed the room.

In less than a moment, the pirate and Emma found themselves imprisoned in the magical cage, alongside John Dee and the Queen. 

“Oh my God, Killian,” Emma said brokenly.

The pirate wrapped his arms tightly around her. “I won’t lie, Swan - It’s not looking good. But somehow we’ll defeat the bitch, and get back to our time, and our son.” He kissed Emma, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheekbones. “At least we’re together, and still alive.”

“But for how long?” asked John Dee.

Killian’s eyes met his, and the two men exchanged an unspoken message. Both knew, if push came to shove, that they would die before they would allow Cora to kill the women they loved more than life itself.

Sighing, the magician drew his Queen closer.

Still standing at the foot of the dais, Zelena smiled, and extended both arms towards her mother, the iron manacles and chains dangling like grotesque jewelry. She was splattered with gore from the slain guards. “Thank you, Mother – Can you please remove these?”

“Of course, daughter,” Cora said. She snapped her fingers, and Zelena’s bonds melted away, like ice on a summer day. “Better?”

The Witch nodded. “Much better, thanks. Now – do we finally kill them?”

Cora cocked her head, and gazed intently at her daughter. “You’ve certainly done me proud, Zelena - I should have abandoned Regina, and kept you instead. You definitely possess more magic than your sister.” 

Zelena beamed, then slowly her smile faded, and her shoulders slumped. “But I no longer have any magic.” She glanced at John Dee, and a look of hatred crossed her face. “The magician stole it! He should die for that – they all should.”

The sorceress floated over to Zelena, and hovered before her. “There, there, dear,” she crooned in a sugary tone. Her transparent hand stroked Zelena’s red hair, its touch insubstantial as a breath of air. “I think we can remedy that.”

“Really, Mother?” Zelena’s eyes lit with unholy glee.

“Oh yes," the sorceress muttered soothingly, as sparks of energy crackled around her fingers, burning away the ancient spell that John Dee had cast.

As power surged back into Zelena, she smiled blissfully. For a moment, as she felt the magic fill her, she was exultant. And then she began to scream. Writhing in pain, she tried to shake her mother’s grip, but Cora dug her fingers into her daughter’s skull, sinking them deep, through scalp, muscle, and bone, right into the pulsing brain. Grinning madly, the sorceress sucked her daughter’s returning power into the insatiable maw of her own evil soul. 

“Did you think I’d really forgive what you did to me, you little bitch?” Cora hissed. Ignoring Zelena’s agonized shrieks, the sorceress greedily fed, her translucent body becoming stolid and bright, flushed with her daughter’s stolen life force. 

The four occupants of the cage could only stare in horror. Emma turned away, pressing her face into Killian’s chest. The pirate tightened his arms protectively around his fiancée, as repulsed, he watched the gruesome scene unfold. Zelena had been an unrepentant monster, but she was a monster that Cora had helped create. And now she was dead, at her own mother’s hand. 

With a triumphant laugh, Cora pushed the lifeless husk of Zelena away. The body fell back, withered as ancient parchment. As it struck the floor, it crumpled instantly into dust.

Fully corporal, the sorceress strolled to the cage, and peered through the bars of glittering energy. She was now the picture of glowing young womanhood, radiant with stolen life. The malevolent smile on her beautiful face was a horrible sight to behold.

“And now, my fine pirate, it’s finally time to deal with you, once and for all. You - and your _true love_.” She sneered the last two words.

“It was you, Cora, that almost killed Swan and I at the masque,” Killian grimly declared. “You were the vampire all along – and now you’ve murdered your own daughter.”

Cora stared at him with an amused expression. “Yes, it was me – And I almost had you both. I also drained some tiresome noble, just to keep my strength up. Zelena, of course, inherited my proclivity for psychic vampirism, but being fully alive, she didn’t need life force - just magical energy. She enjoyed a bit of that this evening – a sort of “last meal”, so to speak.” Cora’s face hardened. “She deserved exactly what she got. Or have you forgotten just what she did to me - turning me into a hideous gargoyle?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten,” the pirate said. “Although, all she really did was give you a body that finally matched your wretched soul.”

“The _real_ you, Cora,” Emma added. “Ugly to the bone, and festering with hatred, evil, and envy.”

“Always so self righteous,” Cora snarled. “The pair of you.”

“Let the other three go,” John Dee interjected. “I have much powerful magic – You can have it – all of it, and my life force – I won’t fight you. Just release the others unharmed.”

“No, John!” Elizabeth cried.

"We can’t let you do that, Dee,” Killian protested, and Emma said, “Please, don’t.”

The sorceress stroked her chin thoughtfully. “A very tempting offer, Doctor.” A nasty grin spread across her face. “And ordinarily, I’d be delighted to immediately take you up on it - but I’ve something _much_ better to try first.” She hugged herself, almost ecstatic in her malice, as if relishing a cherished secret. 

“You’re mad,” Killian said flatly.

“Mad? Oh no, not I,” Cora answered. Her eyes darted to Elizabeth. “Been feeling poorly lately, Your Majesty? Food not staying down? A little queasy in the mornings?”

The young Queen’s face blanched, and her hands flew protectively to her belly.

John Dee turned to his lover. “My darling - What is she talking about?”

“Oh, you haven’t told him yet?” Cora hooted. “How remiss of you, my dear.” She switched her gaze to Killian and Emma. “Amazing, isn’t it, how some things never change. Remind you two of old times, does it?”

“You bitch!” Emma said, as realization dawned.

Killian glared at the sorceress. “Not again! You’ll not do to them what you did to us.”

Another merry laugh from Cora, and her smile broadened. “Oh, it’s even _better_. I’m not going to separate them with a mere amnesia spell, like I did you and Emma. I plan something much more permanent.” She cackled. “I shall kill Elizabeth and her unborn child – and once I do that, Hook, you’ll never, ever bother me again.” 

Emma’s blood ran cold, as she stared at Killian and John Dee, once more taking in their almost identical physical appearance. “Oh my God, Killian – No wonder you and John Dee look so alike, and have similar magical abilities - he and Elizabeth are your direct ancestors. By murdering the Queen and her child, you and Henry will never be born!”

Killian and Emma gazed at each other in appalled silence. As the pirate embraced his beloved, feeling her body shake with rage and grief, he wondered what the hell they were going to do. 

John Dee and Elizabeth, minds reeling, stared in astonishment at their great-many times removed grandson.

Cora leaned in to the cage, her face mere inches away from Killian’s. “And that’s just the start, pirate.” 

He could smell her breath, reeking of the charnel house. Killian didn’t want to die, but unspeakably worse was the thought of Henry also ceasing to exist when he did. “This was always your plan, wasn’t it, Cora? The real reason you attacked Emma at the séance and pulled her into this time.” His eyes blazed with hatred. “Damn you to hell.”

Cora tilted her head to one side, gazing at the pirate with an almost flirtatious look. “Ah, Hook – you really are so handsome. Such a pity I have to un-make you. But yes - you’re correct. I’ve been working on this plan for quite some time. You see, my soul _was_ attached to the gargoyle – Zelena trapped me when she reanimated my body. So when you two defeated me in the alternate universe, and burnt that carcass, my spirit went free. It was a simple thing to follow you back through the portal and hence to Storybrooke. I’ve been watching and waiting ever since.” 

"Why the elaborate charade, Cora? " the pirate said. "This is really just between you and me - You have no reason to kill the others. Why not just kill me now and be done with it?" 

Beside him, Killian felt Emma stiffen with dread, her fingers tightening almost painfully around his arm, as she whispered, "Please, don't tempt her."

"Because I want you to suffer," the sorceress explained. "A straight forward death for you, and it’s all over. I’ve waited far too long for my revenge, to have it be so brief. No, I want all of you to suffer as much as possible." She grinned smugly. "Besides, I know you, Hook - you're just playing for time, while you try and think of some clever way to kill me. As for Zelena - I tricked my power-hungry daughter into thinking I’d forgiven her, and would help her become Queen in this era. It was simple enough to do - she really wasn't very bright. After all, what self-respecting sorceress locks her power into a jewel that can be so easily shattered? But she served her purpose. Thanks to her life force, I’m corporal now. Unfortunately, though, since I’m still dead, it won’t last. Eventually the stolen energy will wear off, and I’ll revert to being discarnate.”

“The sooner the better, you treacherous bitch,” Emma growled.

Cora chuckled. “Oh pretty girl – you are always so predictable. But then, we were never friends.”

“Friends? Hell, no,” the blonde replied in disgust. "You really are an unfeeling monster.”

“Well, Emma dear – monster or not - I’ve always admired your lovely body. So it’s only fitting that I take it for my own.”

Enraged, Killian lunged, attempting to jam the point of his sword through the cage, and into Cora’s throat. “You’ll not have her!”

Prudently, Cora stepped back. “Oh, but I will! I shall drain your precious Emma of her life essence and magic, and then as she dies, I will possess her body. Her soul, of course, will be ripped away, perhaps to wander forever lost. But since I’m not without _some_ consideration, Hook, I’ll let you observe the fun. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on seeing your lover destroyed.” She laughed coldly. “Afterwards, I will slay the Queen and the child she carries in her womb - and you and your son will instantly cease to exist. As for Doctor Dee – I’ll leave your esteemed ancestor for last, so that he can watch all of you die before him. Then I’ll suck him dry of life force, and take every last drop of his magic.”

“No!” Killian roared, throwing himself against the bars of the cage, while Emma, John Dee, and Elizabeth added their psychic energies to his, in a desperate attempt to break through their magical prison.

More crazed laughter from Cora - She was clearly enjoying taunting her prisoners. “Personally, I think it’s a brilliant plan.” Gloating, she strode around the cage, ignoring their attempts to escape. “Perhaps I'll take this kingdom for my own. It’s been awhile since I’ve been a Queen. And when I’ve conquered this place, mayhap I’ll return to Storybrooke and destroy it. After all, I have another daughter there, who also betrayed me. But enough talk – It’s time to act.” She stood still, hands on her hips, and slowly, a trail of purple smoke curled from her solar plexus, snaking through the bars of the cage, seeking its prey.

Killian thrust Emma behind him, but the smoke condensed, suddenly stolid as a lead pipe, knocking the pirate aside. Quickly, it coiled around Emma, and the tip, still shadowy and translucent, plunged into her abdomen. The tentacle of smoke started to glow as Emma’s life force was violently sucked out, and into Cora. At the other end, the sorceress moaned with pleasure as the pilfered energy hit her system. 

Emma screamed, and her eyes rolled back in her head, as she collapsed to the floor of the cage.

Killian surged to his feet, and he and John Dee both frantically grabbed at the vampiric cord, attempting to dislodge it from Emma. 

“Stay with me, Swan, stay with me,” Killian pleaded. He started to sob. 

As she prayed for a miracle, Elizabeth gently took the unconscious Emma’s head into her lap, her own tears falling onto the blonde’s face, which had turned ashen.

Distracted by the overwhelming surge of stolen life force, Cora momentarily lost her grip on the cage. Sensing the faltering of the energy grid, the pirate and the magician struck, chanting in powerful unison, and pouring all of their love and magic into Emma. Their hands grasped the squirming tentacle, and brilliant white and blue fire flared all along its length, burning through the cord with laser precision. 

To Killian’s vast relief, the hideous thing fell away from Emma, fading away as if it had never been. Thankfully, he gathered her into his arms, and kissed her. Slowly, her jade eyes fluttered open. “Beloved,” he murmured. “I thought you’d left me.” 

“Never,” she replied, and gave him a tremulous smile. As Emma’s essence flowed back into her, the pain receded, and healthy pink blossomed in her pale cheeks. 

Suddenly there was a horrendous shriek, and the energy cage wavered and disappeared. All four pairs of eyes turned towards the sorceress. She was rapidly fading to transparency, her face set in a rictus of terror, as she stared into the swirling portal that had abruptly opened beneath her feet. Flames flickered in its depths, and disturbing cries and muttering could be heard, as emaciated arms stretched forth, their talons reaching hungrily for Cora. Screaming, she was dragged into the portal, her body twisting like a ribbon of dirty smoke. As the vortex snapped shut behind her, there was merciful silence.

“What just happened?” Emma asked, as Killian helped her to her feet. Still shaky, she leaned against him, his arm around her waist to steady her.

“I think Cora has finally met her just desserts,” the pirate responded. "When the cord dissolved, it took all of her stolen energy with it, and triggered the portal." 

“Do you think that was really hell?”

“Perhaps – or close enough, at any rate,” John Dee said. “And good riddance.” He turned to Elizabeth, and pulling her into his arms, soundly kissed her on the lips. The Queen sighed happily. “What shall we name the little one?” he inquired, with an affectionate smirk that looked exactly like Killian’s.

“We’ll worry about that when the time comes,” Elizabeth replied, her eyes gazing lovingly into his. Her heart would forever belong to her handsome magician, and to no other. Somehow, despite the many obstacles and her difficult position as Queen, they would find a way to stay together and raise their child. Her glance shifted to Killian Jones. How surprising that this brave young man was actually their grandchild, many times removed, and that he and Princess Emma had a son. Even more extraordinary, the lad's name was Henry. It was only fitting. She wondered briefly what her father would have made of all this. Tenderly she ran her fingers over her belly, which was just starting to protrude, and smiled.

“Well,” said Emma, grinning at Killian. “Looks like now you’re just as royal as me.”

“So it would appear, Swan.” 

“Shall I call you Prince Killian?”

One dark brow arched. “You may call me whatever you wish, beloved.”

“I think I’ll call you _mine_ ,” Emma whispered huskily.

“Always, Swan – always.” He winked, and drew her close. “But please – promise me, no more séances.”

Emma nodded, and crossed her heart. “Definitely never again. That one was my first, _and_ last.” She leaned her head against his leather-clad shoulder, comforted by his strong, loving presence.

“Very good, dearest - But there’s still much to be done.”

“That there is,” said John Dee. “We must tend to our wounded and dead, repair the palace, and somehow convince everyone that what they experienced was an earthquake, not a supernatural battle.”

“Piece of cake,” Emma commented.

The magician laughed, albeit a trifle sardonically. “A pretty large piece of cake for the entire court to swallow. But we’ll think of something. And somehow we'll get you two back to your time - I hear you have a son waiting.”

“That we do,” agreed Killian. “Our Henry – he’s quite a lad.” The pirate grinned at his youthful ancestor. Except for the color of Dee’s eyes, it was like looking into a mirror. “Swan and I are grateful for whatever help you can give us.”

Dee clapped Killian on the back. “You’re family, and that’s what families do - Take care of each other. Thanks to you and Princess Emma, England still has her rightful Queen on the throne – and the woman I love, and our dear child, is safe.”

"John will get you home to your boy," Elizabeth said. "There must be something helpful in all of those ancient books and spells of his."

Fondly, Killian regarded his illustrious ancestors: Doctor John Dee and Elizabeth Tudor – just two young people in love. But in the distant future, the world would remember them as amongst the most brilliant and influential of their generation. He shook his head, still amazed. 

“Well then," he finally said, taking Emma's hand in his. "Time to get started. We have a lot of work ahead of us, but together - somehow - we'll find a way." 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still marooned in Tudor England, Killian and Emma are determined to find their way back to their own time, and to Henry. Can the lovers combine their magic with that of John Dee, and finally return safely to Storybrooke? The emotional conclusion to "Coming Home".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating / Warnings: Please note that this story is rated Mature. Contains romance and angst + tastefully described lovemaking ~ Also contains some graphic violence and adult language.  
> Spoilers: Set shortly after Season 3 mid-season winter finale "Going Home", and "New York Serenade", and immediately after my story, "Winter's Night". Contains Season 3 and Season 4 Spoilers.  
> Please note: All original historical characters belong to me (and history). Thank you.  
> Disclaimers: Obviously this series and the OUAT characters belong to Eddy, Adam, and ABC. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.

London - 1559

Emma never tired of watching Killian, even when he was frowning over yet another arcane book from John Dee’s immense library of magic. It was evening, and the firelight cast warm shadows across the chiseled planes of his face. Restlessly, he flipped through page after page, finally tossing the leather-bound volume down on the oak table with an exclamation of disgust. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, and glanced up at Emma.

“Nothing useful, sweetie?” the blonde asked.

Killian shook his head. “No, my love – lots of fascinating lore and spells, but not a one that mentions time travel.”

She pushed aside the book that she’d been studying. “Nothing in this one either.” Gesturing at the huge stack of books piled between them, she added, “Or in any of those. And it’s been three months.” She sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. Longingly, she stared at the enormous bed that dominated their room. It was heaped with silk pillows, the velvet counterpane turned back to reveal soft ivory-colored sheets, which at this moment, looked especially inviting.

Killian sensed her thoughts. “Might as well turn in, Swan, it’s getting late. And while we’ve yet to find a time travel spell, we now know how to summon storms and create rain, repel ogres, un-sour milk, and all sorts of other useful “everyday” magic, but nothing out of the ordinary.”

Emma laughed. “Listen to us – as if any of this stuff is “ordinary”.” She snorted. 

“Very true, Swan, very true.” He flashed a grin, and despite their shared mutual frustration, her heart lifted. 

“At least you have your engagement ring back, Swan, since Elizabeth commanded that lout of a guard to return it to you, along with my hook.” He chuckled at the memory of Rainer, sweat pouring down his face, as kneeling, he babbled his apologies to Emma, while a steely-eyed Elizabeth Tudor looked on. Later that same day, Killian had spoken privately to Rainer – a meeting from which the guard had emerged with a blackened eye, and a stern warning from Killian to never touch Emma again - or else face his wrath. The look of abject terror on Rainer’s face as he slithered from the pirate’s presence, had been quite gratifying. 

Emma glanced at her ring, and smiled. “That bozo’s lucky Elizabeth just made him give back our stuff and apologize. For a moment there, I thought she was going to grab a sword and take a swing at him - She’s quite the firebrand. Anyway, you have to admit – our time in this era hasn’t been a total waste.”

Despite their anxiety to return home to their time and to Henry, living in Tudor England had proved to be a fascinating experience. Killian had fit more smoothly into this era than Emma initially had, having grown up in a world without indoor plumbing, electric lighting, or central heating, but she had soon got the hang of things.

While the couple had been frustrated with the failure of the Tibetan spell to take them home (not even John Dee could induce the spell to safely transport two people through time), they had, nevertheless, found much to marvel over at Elizabeth’s glittering court. They had assisted Dee with his magical repair of the damaged throne room, and with healing spells for those injured at the masque, and at Elizabeth’s invitation, had attended her council meetings, watching history in the making. Despite his considerable curiosity about the pair's modern weaponry, Dee had returned the pistols to them for safekeeping. This was a great relief to Emma, who had worried about the firearms falling into the wrong hands, should someone chance to break into the magician's laboratory. 

When not searching Dee’s library, they rode through the beautiful English countryside, or explored the streets of London. On one such memorable outing, they had been attacked by a gang of brigands, who thought the couple easy prey. Killian and Emma had drawn their swords, and together, had swiftly driven their attackers into panicked flight. 

There were grand entertainments, including banquets and plays, and a special ball given in their honor, at which a grateful Elizabeth had knighted Killian, and declared Emma a princess of the realm. One morning, Elizabeth’s court painter asked them to pose, as the Queen had commissioned him to create a miniature of the pair. And when the weather was especially fine, Killian and Emma would sneak away, and hand in hand, wander the paths of the vast palace gardens, cherishing the privacy.

Most notable of all, they had attended the secret wedding of Elizabeth Tudor and John Dee. As a ship’s captain, Killian had been honored to perform the nuptials for his ancestors. Emma had been the only witness, and she would never forget the look of radiant love on the young Queen’s face as she and her magician had exchanged vows in Elizabeth’s private chapel. Now the blonde finally understood why Elizabeth had always refused marriage throughout her long reign. Wed to her true love, John Dee, she had no wish for another, although she could never openly acknowledge their union. Somehow, Emma knew, the two had spent their lives together, pretending to be just Queen and loyal magician, while secretly wed to one another, and raising their child. And that child had obviously thrived – a pearl on the sparkling chain of life that had eventually led to Killian, and to Henry. Emma wondered briefly what their son would have made of Tudor England. She and Killian missed him dreadfully, but were thankful that the boy was safe, albeit in a distant future that had not yet happened.

She was also immensely grateful to be safely re-united with Killian. The corners of her mouth lifted in an affectionate smile, as she thought of the sensuous nights she had spent in his arms, comfortably ensconced here, in the Queen’s most luxurious guest room. Reaching out, she gently took her fiancé’s left hand in hers. “We also have a certain other little perk to be grateful for.”

The pirate stared down at his newly restored hand, still marveling at the miracle. His fingers, strong and muscular, entwined with Emma’s. “Yes, _this_ is certainly an unexpected bonus – and one I never dreamed to receive.” 

Emma pressed a kiss to the warm skin of his palm. “I was absolutely amazed when John Dee offered that re-generation spell to you, and the minute you accepted his offer - Bingo! Your missing hand was back, just as good as new. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Indeed, Swan, indeed – And I’m absolutely delighted with my hand’s return. But truly, tell me – do you miss the hook, just a little?”

Her jade eyes sparkled. “I love _you_ , Killian - not a name in a fairy tale book, not a legend of the high seas, not a metal hook, not a pirate persona – just _you_ , Killian Jones, my soul mate. You’re the man I love, and the father of our child – the man to whom I’ve given my heart, and who I’m going to marry, and happily spend the rest of my life with.”

" _Beloved_ ,” Killian murmured. He stood, and quickly moving to Emma’s side of the table, swept her into his arms, claiming her lips in a long passionate kiss.

“ _Ahem_ …”

The lovers glanced up, startled by the discrete little cough. So enraptured were they by each other, that they hadn’t heard the knock, or the door quietly open. John Dee stood in the doorway, his tall form silhouetted by the golden light of the fire. He grinned boyishly, his dark eyes triumphant. “I’ve found the spell!”

*****

The Queen's private meditation garden sparkled in the early morning light. Emma, clad once again in her modern clothing, took a last look around, her eyes drinking in the green beauty of hedges and herbs, and neatly raked flowerbeds that were just starting to bud. The ilex trees arched shining branches against the pale blue of the spring sky, and she could hear the splash of the little stone fountain, and in the distance, the faint call of a lark. A few feet away, Killian and John Dee were saying their farewells. After his dramatic announcement of the night before, the magician had spent several hours in his laboratory studying and perfecting the spell, and as a result, looked a bit weary. His Queen, who had kept her new husband company throughout the night as he worked, lifted her eyes to Emma’s, her lovely face etched with fatigue, and sadness.

While Emma had been longing for this moment since her arrival, now that it was truly here, she felt only sorrow that she would never see Elizabeth or John Dee again. She knew that Killian shared her feelings. They had both grown to love his esteemed ancestors, and found it difficult to say goodbye to them. But the ancient Lemurian spell that Dee had discovered in his library was a one-way ticket home - there would be no return trip to this era.

Emma, tears streaming down her face, threw all protocol aside, and pulling Elizabeth into her arms, gave her a fierce hug.

The Queen’s eyes were as moist as Emma’s. “Don’t cry, my dear – You and your Captain are at last going home, and that is a good thing. But I must confess, I am going to miss you terribly.”

Emma sniffed. “Despite the dangers we’ve experienced here, Your Majesty, and missing Henry, I’ve loved our time here with you and John Dee.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Truly? I am pleased to hear that you’ve enjoyed your stay with us.” She chuckled. “And yes – I have also found our shared adventures exciting.”

“Aye, it has been quite an adventure,” Killian agreed. With a wide grin, he winked at the Queen.

“I’ll never get over the resemblance between you two,” Elizabeth replied, as she glanced fondly at her husband and their handsome descendent. “But ‘tis to be expected, you scamp - considering you’re family.”

"And what an amazing family it is," Emma said, and turned to Dee. “John – I really hate to say goodbye.”

The magician drew her to him, his eyes staring intently into hers. “If not for you and Killian, my beloved Elizabeth would have died at the hands of the imposter. I can never thank the two of you enough for the precious gift of her life.” He was silent for a moment, then added, “But much as I wish to delay the inevitable, ‘tis now time to send you both home. Your lad is no doubt worried, and anxiously awaiting your return.”

Gently, Dee stepped out of Emma’s embrace, and inclined his head towards Killian. “Captain – if you would be so kind as to join your lady.”

Killian nodded, and quickly moving to Emma’s side, took her hand in his.

The magician gestured at the Queen. “My dearest…” 

“One moment please, John,” Elizabeth said. As she glided towards Emma and Killian, she put her hand in the pocket of her gown, and withdrew something that glittered in the sun. “A gift for you, my darlings – To remember us always, as we will always remember you.” She handed Emma an intricate oval locket made of burnished gold.

Emma opened the hinged locket, and gazed down at the beautiful miniature painting within. It was a portrait of a smiling Elizabeth and John Dee, seated side-by-side in the palace garden, beneath a rose tree abloom with red Tudor roses. The artist had perfectly captured every tiny detail, as well as the glow of their love for one another. 

"Oh, it’s beautiful,” Emma breathed. “Thank you – we’ll treasure it always.”

Killian looked over Emma’s shoulder and smiled. “Aye, thank you, Your Majesty.”

With a sweet smile, the blonde carefully tucked the locket into her front pocket, and zipping the pocket closed, patted it with her fingers. “Got to keep this safe.” 

Elizabeth nodded approvingly. Around her own neck, suspended from a delicate chain, was a locket that was twin to theirs. She snapped the locket open, and turning it towards Killian and Emma, revealed the miniature she had commissioned her court artist to paint of them. “To keep you both ever close to my heart.” Leaning forward, she kissed each of them on the cheek. “Be safe, dear ones – and live a long and happy life together, with your son.”

Emma, her green eyes bright, caught the Queen’s hand in hers. “Your life with John will be a long and amazing one – and the world will never forget the two of you or your glorious reign.”

“Thank you for that,” Elizabeth whispered, and giving Emma’s hand a last affectionate squeeze, she stepped away, and went to stand beside her husband.

In one elegant hand, Dee held a long wand made of twisted dark wood, intricately carved with esoteric symbols. With the other, he clasped the hand of his Queen. His dark eyes glowed with power. “Are you ready?”

“Aye, ready as we can be,” the pirate responded, and Emma nodded.

“When I start to chant, I want the two of you to concentrate and focus your own magic and combine it with mine. Please also keep your arms around each other, and hold tight – you don’t want the inter-dimensional winds to separate you.”

They both looked concerned at this remark, even as they wrapped their arms securely around each other’s waists. “There’s a chance we could be separated?” Emma asked nervously.

The magician looked grave. “With a spell of this magnitude, there’s always the possibility that something could go awry - Best to take all proper precautions. That said, I’ve spent all night working on it, and I am, therefore, confident that it will do its job as intended.” 

“Everything will be all right,” Elizabeth added, and smiled reassuringly, even as she silently prayed for success of the spell.

“Very well,” Dee said. Taking a deep breath, the magician started to chant in an ancient tongue that had not been spoken aloud in a millennium. As he murmured, a gentle breeze began to swirl, causing the tree branches to sway and dance. A few more moments of his chanting, and the breeze was a gale-force wind, roaring through the garden with frightening velocity and power.

Killian and Emma closed their eyes, summoning their inner magic, and sending it outward to join with Dee’s. As the wind howled, they clung desperately to one another, their bodies pressed tightly together, their hearts pounding. Emma’s long hair blew back from her face, a bright flag of gold, and she fought to keep from screaming, as the magical energy of the spell poured over and into her.

As Elizabeth clung to her husband, her head bent in the preternatural wind, the magician raised his wand, and with a final triumphant shout, pointed the instrument at Killian and Emma. A blast of blinding sapphire light poured from the wand’s tip, shot across the garden, and enveloped them. As Dee’s magic hit the couple, theirs flowed outward to meet it in a nimbus of white so brilliant that they could see it even through their closed eyelids. The air surrounding Killian and Emma rippled and split apart, sweeping them, still entwined, into the whirling maw of the portal, which snapped instantly closed behind them.

Just as abruptly as it had started, the wind died down, and all was silent, save for the faint twittering of birds. John Dee and the Queen were alone in the garden. They stared at the spot, where just a minute ago, their loved ones had stood.

Dee wrapped his arms around his royal wife, as she buried her head against his shoulder, and sobbed. “It’s all right, my darling,” he soothed. “They’re home now, where they belong.”

She raised her tear-stained face to his. “Do you truly think so, John?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “I feel it in my bones that the spell worked, and they are safe.”

“I’m going to miss them,” Elizabeth replied.

“As am I – but – we were privileged to have them with us, even if only for such a short time. After all, it’s not everyday that a couple meets their descendent and his beloved – much less work with them to save a kingdom – and our own lives.” Smiling, he bent his dark head, and captured the Queen’s lips with his own.

Elizabeth sighed happily, and seizing his hand, gently guided it to her belly. “Yes – our lives – and that of our sweet child.”

“You’re not sorry?” he asked.

“Never,” she replied, and her lips quirked. “Emma told me that to history I will become known as the “Virgin Queen.”

“Indeed?” One brow rose sardonically, and he laughed. “Ah, the joke is on history then. But since our little one can never be openly revealed, he or she can never assume the throne – as the truth might cost all three of us our lives.”

Elizabeth smiled a bit sadly. “I would wish otherwise, dearest – but, more importantly, our child is greatly loved, and I sense will live a brilliant and happy life. And someday, his or her descendents will learn to travel between worlds, to eventually land in Killian’s realm, and begat a new dynasty there. It seems only fitting, considering what an adventurer he is, with the sea flowing in his veins. Was not one of your own ancestors a daring ship’s captain, John?” 

“Indeed he was, my sweet, as well as an amateur sorcerer – although he was also rumored to be a pirate.”

“Ah,” Elizabeth said, and her eyes twinkled. “That explains it then.” And pulling him close, she kissed him beneath the ilex trees.

*****

Storybrooke, Maine – Present Day

As they fell through the portal, they tumbled, still clinging to one another, onto the frozen earth. Snow was falling, and they could see the sparkle of Christmas lights through the sheer drapes of Regina’s big front window.

“We’re home!” Emma cried, as Killian helped her to her feet, and dusted the snow from her jacket. 

“So it would appear, beloved,” the pirate answered. “And thankfully, together – and safe and sound.” With immense relief, he kissed her.

Emma slid her arm around his waist, and glanced about. The rose bushes were covered with a canopy of white, as was the lawn, which was frozen solid. A moment before it had been spring, with the soft blue sky of morning overhead, and now it was evening – and winter. How long had they been gone?

As they reached the steps, the front door opened, and golden light shone through the crack. Regina peeked out, a cup of steaming cider in one hand. “I thought I heard voices,” she murmured, and then, as she realized who was approaching, she let out a whoop of joy, and excitedly called for Henry, Robin Hood, and Emma’s parents to join her. 

Soon the weary time travelers were peppered with questions and happy laughter. Henry hugged first one parent, and then the other, his eyes suspiciously bright. Robin Hood, with little Roland in his arms, couldn’t stop grinning, and neither could Regina. Tears of joy streamed down the faces of Mary Margaret and David, as they embraced their daughter and her fiancé.

A few moments later, and they were all cozily ensconced in Regina’s living room, thawing out before the roaring fire. The mayor, ever the perfect hostess, poured cider for Killian and Emma, then excused herself to check on something in the kitchen. 

“What’s the date?” Killian asked, as he blew on his hot drink, and took a cautious sip.

“It’s just past midnight – The first day of the new year,” Robin replied. “You’ve been gone about a week.”

Killian and Emma stared at one another. “Only a week?” the blonde exclaimed.

Robin nodded. “Yes – and let me tell you – it was one of the longest weeks of our lives.”

“You can say that again,” put in Henry.

Mary Margaret, her eyes still moist, leaned forward. “We’re just so grateful that the two of you have returned.” 

David put a comforting arm around his wife’s shoulders, and added, “Even though it was only a week, we were beginning to wonder if we’d ever see you guys again.”

“But…we were gone for three months,” Emma said. “It took that long to find the right spell that would safely return us to this time.”

Regina entered the living room, carrying a large tray of fragrant spice cookies, hot and fresh from the oven. As she set the tray on the gilt coffee table, she cocked her head, suddenly noticing that Killian now had a left hand. “And I see there’s been a big change too.” She smiled. “As for the time discrepancy - Three months for you? And yet, for us, only a week has transpired – or so it would seem. Time travel is a mystery, and I don’t think any of us will ever be able to properly explain it. What really matters is that you’re both home.”

Killian nodded. “You're right, Regina, the logistics are of no importance. We’re alive to tell the tale, and for that, I’m eternally grateful.” Grinning, he threw one arm around Emma, and the other around Henry, who was happily reaching for a cookie.

Leaning her head against Killian’s shoulder, Emma glanced around the room, from one beloved face to another. “While we made wonderful friends in the past, we also faced terrible dangers, and there were times when Killian and I despaired of ever getting back. But the magic prevailed, and we’ve finally come home."

"Indeed we have, Swan," Killian agreed cheerfully. "We're here, where we belong - with each other, and with all of you - our family.”

Mary Margaret dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “I’m so happy, and yet I can’t stop crying.” She gazed intently at Killian. “In the beginning, I didn’t know what to think of you – a pirate with a bad reputation, who professed to love our daughter. And for some reason I couldn’t even begin to fathom at the time, she was equally crazy about you. But now I understand the attraction, and I’m just thankful that you and Emma are together.” She sniffed. “Anyway, I know that everyone is dying to hear about your adventures in time – but first – there’s something else I’ve been meaning to ask you both.”

“What’s that?” Killian inquired curiously.

“Well,” Mary Margaret said. “When are the two of you going to set a date for the wedding?”

Killian and Emma exchanged conspiratorial smiles, and the pirate replied, “Don’t worry, we’re not planning to elope – you’re all invited.” 

Emma chuckled self-consciously. “It sounds corny, but I’ve always secretly dreamed of a romantic fairytale wedding, with me in the most perfect gown imaginable, and trailing a veil of the sheerest lace. It’s summer, the day is sunny and bright, and I exchange vows with my true love in an exquisite garden filled with blooming red roses. But after what Killian and I have just been through, I’m thinking I’d rather not wait that long, and that even though it's still winter, we should get married soon.” Tenderly she caressed Killian’s hand. “Hey, I’ve got the true love part cinched – and that's all that really matters.”

Killian, his deep blue eyes shining with love, lifted Emma’s hand to his lips, and kissed it. “Whatever my darling desires, she shall have,” he murmured.

And that, my friends, is a story for another day.


End file.
